I Knew You Were Trouble
by I Dream of Scotty
Summary: AU - Teresa Lisbon is in trouble and there is only one person she can turn to but is he the answer to her prayers or has she just taken on far more trouble than she can handle? Jisbon!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is an AU story, not really sure where this idea came from. Please let me know what you think and if you like it. :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

Teresa Lisbon sat alone at the bar stroking the glass of tequila in front of her, thinking about how she had ended up there. She wasn't the kind of woman to always play it safe but she knew when to take a chance and when to walk away. In her line of work it was what kept her alive; she had always trusted her instincts - until now. For days she had thought about this, constantly debating with herself, it was a foolish idea and likely one that would get her killed, but she decided to come here anyway. She knew that all the paths in her life had been leading her to this, it was her destiny and she could not walk away.

It had been three nights in a row now, three long nights sitting just like that, waiting for one man. Waiting for him. She could sense the second he entered the bar. It was as if an electric current had rolled off him and onto her, causing her skin to tingle and electrifying her soul. This was trouble. She listened as he walked passed her and sat down at a table a few feet away and she knew that if she only turned her head a little to the side she would see him but she sat still, facing away, not ready to look at him yet. She would let him come to her as she knew he would.

He had never thought he'd see her again, not after the way it had all happened. He had suspected that there was more to her than met the eye and he was right but he hadn't been surprised to find out that she was a cop. She tried her best to fit it, pretend like she belonged there but he could tell she didn't. He was fascinated by this woman from the very first moment he laid eyes on her. She was tough yet vulnerable in the most endearing way, he knew at once that she was trying to put up a front but he would notice when her mask slipped and he caught a glimpse of the woman she really was. He often wondered if he could break down that façade completely if he ever got her alone, but he never got the chance.

He deliberately sat down at the table that afforded him the best view of her; she was a vision, dressed immaculately, from her tight black jeans to the form fitting purple blouse and sexy black leather jacket. Even in the dimly lit room she glowed like an angel and the sight of her did sinful things to his mind. He had wanted her from the beginning but he restrained himself. She wasn't like the women he was used to. He wanted to take his time and get to know her, try to get her to reveal more secrets to him, like she did when she was undercover, albeit unintentionally. He knew she would be a challenge, and he liked that. During that short time he never had the chance to be alone with her. He smiled to himself as he watched her. He would get his chance now.

Teresa knew he was looking at her and she felt her heart rate pick up as she saw him approach from the corner of her eye. This is it, she thought, too late to back away now. "Did you enjoy the view?" she asked as he stood next to her at the bar. There was a hint of seduction in her voice.

He grinned like a wolf, noticing she still didn't look at him, "Yes," he answered, "and I'd like to see more!"

She turned around slowly at that.

"Hmmm, better!" he said and asked the bartender to get him a scotch.

Patrick Jane was a dangerous man and she knew it and yet she could not take her eyes off him. Up close he was even more handsome than she remembered. "You're a hard man to get hold off," she said and he leaned one elbow on the bar and smiled at her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You've been coming here for three nights now, in such a dangerous place. You're a very determined woman." He took a sip of his drink and smiled, slyly, "I like that!"

"You knew?"

He smiled, "Off course."

She smiled, she should have known, the man was practically psychic! "We were supposed to meet here on Monday! Why did you make me wait for three days?" Teresa started to get the feeling that he was testing her and began to feel a sliver of annoyance run through her at his arrogance.

He leaned closer to her, "I had to be sure this wasn't a trap...after last time…" his voice had grown serious.

"This isn't a trap," she whispered.

Patrick smiled, "I know that now." He said. "I've been watching you Teresa." She felt a shiver crawl up her spine. "You're body language gives you away."

"I fooled _them_ didn't I?" She retorted, "Took down the whole ring!"

He smirked, "They only saw what they wanted to see, a pretty woman in a short skirt who worshipped them. I must say, you did make a convincing job of it, but they would have seen through it had they watched you more closely!"

She smiled, "Like you did?"

He grinned, raising his eyebrows as he took another sip of his drink. "What do you want Teresa? Why have you come here?"

"I need your help!" she said, her voice shaking a little.

"That's a given." He looked into her eyes, trying to read her emotions, "It must be serious or you would have given up by now!"

She nodded, "It is! Someone's trying to kill me!"

Patrick looked at her for a moment, thinking about that revelation.

"Patrick!" she whispered and he looked at her again.

"Why have you come to me Teresa?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" she asked.

"Yes, but you're a cop, can't your own people help you?"

"I think this is something to do with the gang we busted, Patrick, you were there, you know what those people are like…"

"Why have you come to me, Teresa?" He asked again, his voice a little more demanding this time.

"I...I think they may have found out I was undercover. I don't know Patrick, the whole time I was there I felt like someone was always watching me. I can't tell my boss that I screwed up so badly...I need your help. Please!"

"What makes you think I can help you?" he asked and she knew that he was testing her.

"I know about you Patrick Jane. The kind of man you are, the kind of things you would do. That's what I need!"

He let his gaze fall on her face and slowly downwards to the gold cross on her neck. He reached out with one finger and began tracing the chain upon which it hung. She didn't flinch but her heart was racing at his touch. "A good Catholic girl like yourself? Do you know what you're asking of me Teresa? Are you sure you want to do this, because once we start this, there's no turning back, there'll be blood on both our hands!" he moved his hand upward and swept one finger gently across her cheek and stopped just near the corner of her lips. She couldn't stop the shudder that swept over her. Excitement and fear overwhelming her at both his presence and the thought of what she was about to do. "Are you sure you trust me?"

She looked him in the eyes, "Yes!"

He was taken aback by that, "You're a fool!" he said and downed the rest of his scotch, "you said you know the type of man I am, how do you know I won't kill you myself?"

"You won't!" she replied, her voice strong, confident.

"Really? You wouldn't be the first one!"

"You only kill when it's necessary, you're driven my a moral imperative, you're own code of honor. You won't hurt me! All that time we were there, it was like you wanted to protect me. No one touched me 'cos they were afraid of you!"

He smiled and nodded his head, "You've got guts Teresa, I'll give you that!"

"So will you help me?"

"Yes!" He said and he could see her relax a little, "Let's get outta here! I don't like some of the looks we're getting." She nodded and they both stood up and left the bar.

When they got outside it was raining. Teresa held her jacket over her head as Patrick led her to a small alleyway near to where he had parked his car. Neither of them said a word to each other but he made sure to stay close to her, all the time secretly scanning the area for any signs that they were being followed. He thought about what she said and he knew she was right, he did feel protective toward her, he couldn't deny that and it had unsettled him that she had read him so well. He was impressed at her perceptivity but at the same time he realized that he would have to keep his guard up around her. She was still a cop and one who had clearly researched his past.

They were a few feet away from his car when Patrick suddenly stopped and grabbed her arm. Teresa looked at him, stunned and for a second or two she actually thought he was going to hurt her. He pulled her into the alley and pinned her against the wall. She was breathing heavily, her heart frantically beating in her chest, her mind clouded up as all kinds of scenarios raced through it. She knew the kind of man he was but was sure he wouldn't hurt her, had she been so wrong about him? "Patrick, please!" she said, her voice shaking with fear. Instinctively, she reached for her Glock but Patrick was two steps ahead of her.

"Don't even think about it Teresa!" he said as he grabbed both her hands and pinned them above her head. He moved his body closer to her and looked into her eyes, noticing how her pupils had dilated. She was scared. He smiled, "What's wrong Teresa, I thought you trusted me?" he teased.

"Let me go!" she demanded.

He could feel her body trembling slightly as he pressed closer to her, "Don't run, don't scream and don't even think about reaching for your gun, is that clear?" She nodded and he stepped back a little, releasing her hands as he did so. "We need to discuss the terms of the deal," he began, "but first I want you to put your arms around my neck!"

She gave him a blank look, "Why?" she asked.

He gestured to the police car that drove by just then, "There are cops everywhere, we don't want to attract any attention, put your arms around my and rest your head on my shoulder while we talk." She did as he asked and he wrapped his arms around her body and held her close to him. To anyone passing by they looked like a normal couple sharing an embrace. He leaned into her ear and whispered, "Tell me what happened."

"About two weeks ago I got the feeling someone had been hanging round my house, stalking me. At night I could hear noises, and one morning I found the trash can had been knocked over. At first I didn't really think anything of it but then I started getting threatening phone calls. One morning my brother called me and said that someone had tried to run him off the road! He had his daughter in the car with him!"

Patrick paused before saying, "Okay, but you've got to understand Teresa, I'm not a cop, I'm not the law so if we're gonna do this, it has to be done my way!"

She nodded, "I understand."

He looked her in the eye, "You're really okay with this? You're a cop!"

"Yes, but not right now. I've taken a leave of absence, it was owed to me after the undercover op. There's no badge, this is personal!" She could tell he didn't believe her and she couldn't blame him, she could hardly believe what she was doing herself, but she was desperate. "God Patrick! It's one thing them threatening me but whoever's doing this is going after my family...I need them taken care off!"

Patrick nodded knowingly, "Okay, my fee is ten thousand dollars!" he said and saw her eyes grow wide at that figure, "I don't work for free Teresa, what you're asking me to do...I'm putting my life at risk…"

"Our lives, we're both putting our lives at risk, remember, five thousand!"

"Eight thousand, or I'll walk away now!" he told her.

"Patrick this person is trying to kill me and my family, you can't just walk away!"

"Eight thousand dollars!" he said.

She looked at him and knew by the look in his eyes he wouldn't budge. She sighed in resignation, "You're a cold bastard!"

"In my line of work, I have to be; don't take it personally!" He paused, "So do we have a deal?"

She looked at him and felt like she had just sold her soul to the devil, "We have a deal!"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews/favorites/follows for the last chapter. I really appreciated the support for this story. Here's chapter 2. :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

The first sliver of doubt made itself known to her the moment she shook his hand, like a small paper cut, it nicked at the surface of her conscience. She knew she should have just turned around and gone home then, but the look in his eyes as their hands touched, held her captive, making her feel as though she was held in place by an unseen force. As if gravity itself had moved them into each other's orbits and there was no escape. She was committed to the path whether she liked it or not.

Patrick Jane had a firm handshake. His hand was warm as it wrapped itself around hers, offering her a strange comfort as she shivered from the cold and rain. As she looked into his eyes she found the warmth spreading through her arm and into parts of her that she couldn't believe she was thinking about in such a despicable place. There was something about this man that had attracted her from the very beginning; it wasn't just his looks. Everything about him screamed trouble and deceit and that intrigued her. She couldn't understand it; she had never been attracted to the bad boy type and there were moments when she was convinced that she was losing her mind. She thought it was the only explanation for what she was doing. Everything about this was so unlike her.

She felt an immediate loss when he let go of her hand and the warmth was replaced but a gust of cold air. "We should get going," he told her and then began to walk back to his car. "Can I drive you home?"

Teresa looked at him suspiciously, "There's a motel a little way from here, you can drive me there."

Patrick grinned knowingly, "You're going to spend the night in a motel in _this _neighborhood?"

"I have a gun." She replied and then got into his car.

"Don't trust me to see where you live huh?"

She turned to him as he got inside and sat down. "Are you gonna talk or drive?"

He smiled and then started the engine. They had been driving in silence for a while when Teresa noticed he would glance at her every so often. After about ten minutes she had finally had enough. "What?" she asked.

"I'm just wondering what this is all about?" he said.

"I told you, someone's trying to kill me."

"Hmm so you said." He looked at her again.

"You don't believe me?"

"Well it's not like you'd be undercover again..."

"Please! You think I'm investigating you? Don't flatter yourself Patrick!"

"I was wondering, that day in the barn…." He began but she cut him off.

"I don't want to talk about it – ever! You understand?"

"I can imagine."

"I said I don't want to talk about it." She was pouting now and Patrick had to fight back a laugh.

"Don't beat yourself up Teresa, could have happened to anyone. It's not easy to keep secrets from me."

She turned to him "sympathy? From you?"

"Just pointing out that you need to work on your act." He paused, "And that you can't lie to me. If you are investigating me I will find out."

"Is that meant to scare me?" she asked.

"It's a fact." He replied.

They drove in silence for a while after that. Teresa would occasionally stare out of the window and Patrick kept his focus on the road ahead. Suddenly Teresa noticed that he had taken a wrong turn. "Hey, what are you doing? The motel's the other way."

He paused a beat, "I know." He told her and Teresa shot him a questioning look. "We're not going to the motel. "I have a place not far from here, we can stay there for the night."

"No!" Teresa protested. "Turn the car around now!"

"You agreed to do things my way. If someone is trying to kill you then you need to be somewhere safe until we can stop them." He explained. "And I need you to be somewhere I can keep an eye on you." Teresa shook her head but before she could say anything Patrick added, "I need to make sure you don't try to contact your colleagues when my back is turned."

"Are you going to check me for a wire as well?" she asked, the irritation and sarcasm showing in her voice.

"I'd be more than happy to search you thoroughly once we get there." He teased.

"Bite me!" she retorted and crossed her arms in frustration.

Patrick grinned "we'll be there shortly, you can sleep in the spare room, it's small but it should do. We can go over the suspects tonight."

"What suspects? I don't even know who it could be!"

"We can talk about that later, besides I have a few ideas."

Teresa looked at him askance, realisation finally dawning on her. "You had this all planned didn't you?" she asked, although in hindsight she should have known.

"I have learned it pays to plan ahead." He replied. "It's why I'm so good at what I do."

"You sound like you'd known why I wanted to see you before I even said a word." She was beginning to get a little concerned.

"The first two days you came to the bar I was watching you. I need to know why you would try to contact me, of all people. I read your body language and I could see you were nervous about something. The fact that you went back for the next two nights suggested that you were serious about this and that was interesting."

Teresa smirked, "So you finally decided to show up on the third night? You son of a bitch! What if whoever was trying to kill me had succeeded before you finally showed up?"

"Yes well, in my defense, I didn't know someone was trying to kill you...not until I saw it in your eyes and secondly, I had to be sure it wasn't a trap."

She turned her head towards him. "Does that mean you believe me?" she asked.

He kept his gaze straight ahead, "I believe that you think someone is trying to kill you…"

"But?"

He paused as he made a right turn. "you're hiding something, something that scares you." He told her.

"Yeah right." She laughed but he could tell it was it was a little forced. This woman was keeping a secret from him and he was determined to find out what it was.

They arrived at Patrick's place about fifteen minutes later. It was a small little bungalow in a questionable part of town; partially dilapidated but not so much as to make it uninhabitable. Teresa noticed that the overall structure seemed intact, it was just in need of a little care and attention. Patrick led her inside, holding the squeaky door open for her. She smiled at the gesture. _Who knew Patrick Jane could be chivalrous? _She thought. As she walked through the door Patrick switched the lights on. The surroundings therein took her by surprise. Judging by the exterior Teresa had expected to find the inside in a similar state of disrepair, however what she saw was a home. The furniture wasn't very expensive or flashy but there was a definite feeling of warmth about the place. It felt comfortable. Patrick smiled, knowing what she was thinking. "Why don't you go sit near the fireplace, warm yourself up and I'll fix us some dinner. Hope you like eggs."

Teresa nodded and went over to the living room area while he walked into the kitchen. "There's a switch on the left." He told her, referring to the electric fireplace.

"Got it!" Teresa replied. She switched it on and took off her jacket. Still shivering, she sat on the floor and began to warm up.

A short while later Patrick had finished making dinner and he brought the plates over to the small dining table and looked over to the living room, watching her for a moment. He noticed how the heavy rain had made her straight hair transform into loose waves that hung about her shoulders, leaving water trails down the back of her blouse. "Teresa!" he called but when she turned to look at him, the sight of her damp blouse clinging to her breasts made him speechless.

Teresa looked at him expectantly but when he did not reply she asked, "What is it Patrick?"

Patrick shook himself out of his trance and went into his bedroom and came out about thirty-seconds later carrying a shirt. "Here, put this on!" he told her as he threw her the garment. "Your room's over there on the right, you can change there."

"Thanks," she said and stood up walked away.

When she came back she was wearing his shirt; it was way too big for her but it was dry and comfortable. "Thanks for the change of clothes." She said as she sat opposite him at the table.

Patrick glanced up from his plate and looked at her with an appreciative eye. "Eat your food while it's still warm." He told her and she picked up the knife and fork and began cutting into the bacon.

He resumed eating but just as he was about to take another mouthful he noticed that Teresa was hesitant. "What?" he asked.

She looked at him, "Just wondering if it's safe." She replied.

He smirked, "I thought you said you trusted me?"

She furrowed her eyebrows then, "Not completely." She admitted.

Patrick put down his fork. "I'm not trying to drug you Teresa." He said.

"How can I be sure?"

He sighed and then reached out across the table and grabbed her wrist; her hand still holding the fork, taking her completely off guard. "Here, let me show you." He then slowly moved her hand towards his face and moved the fork into his mouth, taking a bite of the bacon that she had piled onto it. Teresa was caught in a trance of her own and it was as if everything was happening in slow motion. She was unable to take her eyes off his lips.

Patrick loosened his grip on her wrist and slowly took the fork out of his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers, giving her the most intense look she had ever received. She could feel her face flush and her body began to feel way too warm. He then leaned back into his own chair and continued to eat his dinner. _What the hell just happened? _She wondered.

"Hernandez and McCoy." He said.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"The suspects." He elaborated. "You mentioned that you were being watched when you were undercover and I'm willing to bet you're right. I've had my eye on Gabriela Hernandez for a while now. There's something about her I don't trust."

"Gabriela? She always seemed so nice!"

"Exactly, too nice. She and McVickers were always hooking up and he was dealing her coke on the side. Once he got arrested her supply ran out. She's an addict, desperate and angry. I saw the way she looked at you when you weren't looking, she did _not _like you!"

"She couldn't have know I was a cop, we were alone in the barn that day, just us, no one else." Teresa reminded him.

He smiled at the memory, "Yes, but she could have found out another way. She could have followed you…" Teresa's eyes widened in realisation. "She was jealous. McVickers had taken a liking to me and he and I did spend a lot of time together."

"It's possible." Patrick agreed.

"Who's McCoy?" Teresa asked, "He wasn't part of the group."

"No," Patrick began, "McCoy is a PI, he was also investigating the group."

"He was? Wait..how do you know all this?" she asked.

"I have my methods." He replied, "The point is, once McVickers and Sanz got arrested the group scattered. My guess is that whoever he was paid to look into is now either dead, in prison or missing. Either way, he wouldn't get paid and being a private investigator I'm willing to bet he had his eye on you. Remember that time you pulled a gun on Lewis?"

"Yeah."

"That attracted a lot of attention from a lot of people. They all started taking notice of you from then on." He explained.

"I had to do it, he was about to ruin everything…"

"I don't doubt it, and I agree; you had no choice but still…" He paused, noticing the expression of shock on her face. "What is it? A name just came to you didn't it?"

"Mike Patterson!" she said.

"Who's Mike Patterson?" he asked.

"He's an ex cop. Used to work in my unit but got fired for taking bribes. He was supposed to go undercover but when he got dismissed they gave the job to me. This could have made his career…"

"But instead you got the promotion and the credit for the bust." She nodded.

"Well looks like we have our suspects." He said as the two of them finished their dinner. "We can start on Hernandez and Patterson first, if they don't pan out we will need to take a trip to Malibu to look into McCoy. Get some sleep, we'll start first thing in the morning." Teresa nodded as Patrick collected their plates off the table.

She walked into her room and closed the door behind her, feeling a headache coming on. She sat on the bed and closed her eyes; the possible scenarios running through her mind, overwhelming her. She leaned backwards and fell onto the bed. The undercover op was meant to be a high point in her career but she had not anticipated the fallout. She appreciated Patrick's help but knew that what they were about to do was dangerous and illegal. She curled up into a ball and rested her head against the pillow; she was in a whole lot of trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I have a longer chapter for you this time, hope you like it. Thanks once again for all the reviews/follows/favorites for this story. :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

Teresa lay wide awake in bed that night, sleep did not come to her as she wrestled with her conscience. She had began to doubt the whole plan. When she first found out that her family's life could be in danger all she wanted was for the person responsible to pay but now that she had had time to think about it, the cop in her was telling her that this was all a mistake and that she should just find another way to deal with it. She listened to the movements outside her room as he walked around. Patrick had been kind to her that evening and although she believed he would not hurt her, she knew that he was still an unknown quantity in this endeavor. She knew so little about him but was convinced that he was unstable. He had killed before, of that she was certain; his reputation for violence was well known amongst the members of the gang she had been investigating while undercover. She also knew that when he found whoever was responsible they would suffer the same fate.

By the time four o'clock came round she decided she couldn't go through with it. She silently got out of bed, and quickly got dressed. She noticed that Patrick had stopped moving about the place approximately an hour ago and so she assumed that he had gone to sleep, so now would be the perfect time for her to leave. Just as she was about to open the door a thought occurred to her. She walked back over to the small dresser and began to search for a some paper and a pen but after searching every drawer she found nothing. She realised that he probably wouldn't care whether she explained herself or not but somehow she felt that she owed him an explanation, and to thank him for wanting to help her. She felt that somewhere deep inside him there was still a decent human being. She moved over the nightstand and searched the small drawer there. She found no paper but her eyes caught on something else. She stopped her rummaging and carefully took the object out and held in gently in her hands. She realised then that it was a small heart shaped silver locket, like the kind a child would wear. She stared at it for a moment, wondering why a man like him would have such a thing. Her fingers moved over to the front of the locket, readying themselves to open it but she paused, considering whether she should do it; this man had a right to his privacy after all, but curiosity got the better of her and she opened the little trinket. The picture that was inside left her with even more questions - it was of a woman with red, wavy hair. Teresa quickly closed the locket and put it back exactly where she had found it, not wanting to know anymore about this man. She should not have come back to him in the first place, he was trouble, she kept reminding herself as she closed the nightstand drawer, switched off the lamp and quietly opened the bedroom door.

She poked her head out a little, checking if the coast was clear, and then slowly made her way down the small corridor and into the living room, making sure not to make any kind of noise as she passed the door to his bedroom. Once in living room she stopped, listening for any movement. She didn't want to risk turning the light on so she carefully navigated her way passed the fireplace and the couch but once she had reached the reached the point where the open-plan kitchen began something stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Can't sleep Teresa?" came Patrick's seemingly disembodied voice.

Teresa scanned the room in an attempt to locate him but it was so dark. "Patrick?" she asked, her voice quiet, uncertain. She heard movement from the couch and she focused her eyes in that direction and thought she could vaguely make out the shape of his head as he sat up to face her.

"You going somewhere?" he asked, his voice low, husky from sleep.

Teresa swallowed, partly due to being taken off guard but also because he sounded so sexy in that moment. Her heart began to race for multiple reasons and she found herself taking a deep breath before replying. "I..err..I was just going to get some water," she began. "Fried food always makes me thirsty." As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness she could see the outline of his face and the way the faint glow of the moonlight outside made his eyes appear to shine in the darkness. At that moment Patrick got off the couch and turned the lights on, causing Teresa to blink. He then walked into the kitchen and opened the faucet, filling two glasses of water. He brought one over to her and gestured for her to sit back down on the couch with him. She reluctantly obliged. "I thought you were asleep, I didn't mean to wake you."

He took a sip of the water and then put the glass down onto the coffee table in front of him. "Well at least that part's true," He said, his eyes searching her face.

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.

He paused a beat before saying, "You wouldn't have been trying to bail on me, now would you?"

"No," she said but the smile on his face told her that he didn't believe her.

"Don't lie to me Teresa." He told her.

"I'm not lying."

"You're fully dressed, down to your jacket, you have your shoes on and you say you were only going to get some water…" He put his arm around the back of the sofa while turning round to face her.

"It's cold in here."

"You're having second thoughts?" he asked and her silence confirmed his suspicions. "Teresa, look at me."

Her eyes met his but she instantly looked away again and toward the floor. He moved closer to her, his hand went to her face, cupping her cheek as he turned her toward him once more. "You're scared."

"Well off course I'm scared!" she did her best to sound annoyed but the slight quiver in her voice gave her away. "I know how you operate, how you deal with these things."

"Isn't that why you came to me in the first place?" he asked, his thumb now caressing the side of her face.

"I thought it was what I wanted, but…"

"But now you're changing your mind?" She nodded. "You do know it's too late. You shook on it."

"But we haven't done anything yet." She argued, "What's to stop me from walking out of here right now?"

Patrick moved his had from her face and lower, toward her neck, resting it on her pulse point. She was acting calm and in control but he felt her racing pulse and smiled inwardly.

"I think we both know you won't do that." He told her, his voice had taken on an eerie calm tone as he looked at her.

Teresa could feel his hand tighten a little around her neck. To anyone else this would have been a very threatening gesture but in the time she had gotten to know this man she knew he was only trying to frighten her and so she held his gaze. "You sound pretty confident about that." She told him as she slowly moved her hand toward her gun but he spotted it and tightened his grip a little more, she could feel the pressure on her throat now.

"Oh I am. You and I both know that this is what you want. You can try and deny it all you want Teresa but eventually you'll come back to me again and next time I'll double the price."

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because I don't like being messed around with my dear." He saw her draw her gun but he wasn't worried, he watched in silent amusement as she pointed it in his face.

"Let go of me!" she demanded.

Patrick laughed, "What's wrong Teresa?" He asked, still keeping his voice low. "I thought you wanted me to touch you."

Teresa didn't waver, still pointing the gun at him she said, "This is not my idea of foreplay."

"You weren't complaining that day in the barn; gave me the impression you liked it rough. Couldn't keep the smile off your face."

"Off course I was smiling; I kicked your ass. You may be a professional liar Patrick but you fight like a girl. Now let me go!"

"Are you going to _shoot _me Teresa?" He mocked, "You know I'm the only person who can help you. What if this person tries to kill your brother again? Will you go to the cops? You know they'll find out about how you screwed up and then what will happen to you?" he let go of her throat and sat back into the cushions, putting his finger on his lower lip, feigning thought. "Probably get demoted, your reputation will be damaged, for a very long time, severely hurt your career prospects. Not to mention the damage it will cause to you personally. A person like you, the job is everything." He laughed.

"At least my conscience will be clear, and we'll find whoever's doing this and put them away."

He shook his head, "But that's not good enough, is it? I know how you're feeling right now." He said, his voice had taken on a soothing quality and Teresa found herself getting distracted by it but before she realised her mistake, Patrick had grabbed the gun from her hand and had pulled her into his grip, his left arm holding her close to his body, her back pressed tightly against his chest. He moved his face toward her ear, his warm breath washing over the left side of her face as he softly spoke, "your head is telling you to run, but you heart…" he moved his hand towards her left breast, resting it over her heart. "Your heart is out for blood. You want whoever is doing this to be found and punished. They need to be stopped, permanently. Vengeance must be served." He could feel her breathing speed up and her body grow warmer. "You can feel it, can't you Teresa, it's there deep inside you, primal, pure and true. It's like a hunger; it must be satisfied."

"I'm not a killer." She protested, trying to break free of his grip.

"You're a cop, you've killed before?" He questioned.

"That's different." She protested.

"No," he whispered, "it's just the same. You stop the bad guys, and that's what we're going to do Teresa, take one more bad guy off the streets."

Teresa finally broke free of his grip and stood up, facing him, her face bright red. "You're a crazy son of a bitch!"

He smiled, "Perhaps, but you know I'm right." He too stood up. "Drink your water and then meet me in the car, we'll set off for Hernandez's place."

She looked at him, startled. "Now?"

"She leaves the house every morning at six. We need to be there before that."

"And what are we going to do when we get there?" she asked, her turn to be amused. "Are we just going to go into her house and question her?"

He looked at her, expression serious. "You're going to talk to her." He said.

"Me?"

"Pretend you want to catch up on old times, I don't care as long as it gets us through the door."

"And then what?" she asked, not liking the plan at all.

"You'll tell her that you've got the feeling like someone is watching you, see how she reacts. If she is the one, I'll know." He assured her. "And if she isn't we'll say our goodbyes and be on our way."

She looked at him skeptically but he had run out of patience. "Teresa, just trust me. Go wait in the car, I'll be right out."

She raised her eyebrows, "Give me back my gun and I will."

"No not yet. You'll get it back when this is over. Now go!"

Teresa felt the stress increasingly build all the way to Gabriela Hernandez's house. She was used to being in control but now she found herself in a situation where control was constantly out of her reach. Neither of them had said much to the other and the journey proceeded in silence which Teresa found reassuring. It seemed the more she spoke to him the worse the situation became.

Once they arrived at their destination they both got out of the car. "You first," Patrick instructed as they walked up to the house. Teresa rang the doorbell but there was no answer.

"Maybe she's gone out already?" she suggested but Patrick shook his head.

"It's only five forty-five. She's in, ring it again."

Teresa tried the doorbell once more and sure enough, a moment later Gabriela Hernandez answered the door.

"Gabriela!" Teresa greeted, putting on her best fake cheer.

"Jessica?" she asked, uncertain.

"Yes," Teresa confirmed the name she had used whilst undercover. "It's me."

Hernandez too put on a fake smile, "What are you doing here Jessica?" Her eyes then moved to Patrick who was standing right beside her and her smile transformed into a frown of concern.

"I just thought I'd stop by, catch up, you know. Haven't seen you in a while, just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Hernandez gestured toward Patrick with her head. "What's he doing here?"

Patrick put on his most charming voice, "Her car broke down near Megan's diner, I was driving past when I saw her, offered to give her a ride."

"That's very generous of you," Hernandez said, her tone laced with suspicion.

"Can we come in? It's kinda cold out here?" Teresa asked and Hernandez let them inside.

She led them to a small living room where they all sat down.

"So, how are you doing?" Teresa began. "You look tired."

"Haven't been sleeping so good." She said. Teresa observed the bottle of sleeping pills on the table. "Why have you decided to come here so early Jessica? I mean I'm glad to see you," she lied, "but I have to go to work soon."

"I had to see you Gabriela, I needed to talk and you're one of the few people I trust."

Hernandez nodded for her to continue. "Ever since the cops arrested Vince I've got the feeling I'm being watched, you know? It's scary, I thought someone followed me home the other night."

Patrick watched Hernandez's face as Teresa spoke to her.

"You think whoever took down Vince is after you?" she asked.

"I don't know, I think so." Teresa said.

Something flashed across Hernandez's face then, as if a thought had just occurred to her. "You and Vince were close, he told you things."

"Yes," Teresa admitted hesitantly, not knowing what she was getting at.

"Like maybe he told you about his stash that he kept hidden?" she suggested but Teresa shook her head.

"He didn't tell me anything about a hidden stash."

"You seem a little agitated, what's wrong?" Patrick asked.

She gave him a look of disdain, "Nothing!" she told him.

Patrick nudged Teresa with his arm, "Jess, I think we should be going." He stood up to leave. Teresa looked at him and saw the slight shake of his head, indicating that he thought she was innocent.

"You're going already?" Hernandez asked, confused.

"Yes, you're right Gabriela, it is too early for a visit, I'm sorry I should come back another time. I guess I let this paranoia get the better of me." Teresa explained.

"Wait, you don't have to rush off, stay and have some tea."

"We have to get going." Patrick added as he put his hand on the small of Teresa's back and gently pushed her towards the door. Teresa wondered why he was in such a hurry to leave and as they turned and began to walk towards the door she got her answer.

"Stop!" Hernandez commanded and as they turned around they saw that she was holding a gun.

"Gabriela, what's going on?" Teresa asked.

Hernandez was about to answer but Patrick drew the gun he took from Teresa and fired at her, or at least tried to; but nothing happened. Hernandez reacted quickly and fired at Patrick, the impact of the shot sending him hurtling to the floor. Teresa gasped in shock as she stared down at his unmoving form but was relieved to see that he was still breathing.

"Now you're gonna tell me where Vince keeps his stash." Hernandez told her.

"Gabriela," Teresa began trying to calm her down, "I told you, I don't know. He never told me anything about that."

"Liar," she replied, "I know you and him were real cosy, he trusted you he would have told you, and now you're gonna tell me or he dies!"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks again to everyone for the reviews/favs/follows for this story. :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

"Gabriela," Teresa said again, "please put the gun down."

"Don't you tell me what to do! Move! Over there. Now!" she motioned with her gun in the direction she wanted Teresa to walk, Teresa obliged. Hernandez led her to the kitchen where she indicated Teresa should sit on a dining chair. "Sit." She ordered and Teresa did as she was told. Hernandez walked over to a cabinet and retrieved a roll of duct tape from within, all the while keeping her eyes and her gun trained on Teresa. She threw the roll over to her and Teresa caught it. "Tape yourself to the legs of the chair." She instructed. "And don't take too long I haven't got all day. Make it nice and tight or I'll finish him off!"

Teresa began wrapping the tape around her right leg. "Gabriela, why are you doing this? I told you I know nothing about any kind of stash." She began, "As far as I knew, he got rid of it all before the cops took him away."

Hernandez smirked, "Or maybe you took it? You think I'm stupid? I know you had him wrapped around your finger; all you had to do was bat your eyes at him and he'd come running." She pulled up a chair and sat down opposite her. "You know, everyone thought he was the one calling the shots but I knew better. It was you, wasn't it?" Teresa had by now wrapped the tape several times around her right leg. "Now the left one." Hernandez told her. "I bet that you took it all when the cops came. Explains why I never saw you again, till today. You took it all and ran!"

Teresa noted that Hernandez was becoming increasingly edgy. "No, Gabriela, you've got it all wrong."

"Oh shut up! I'm sick of your lies; you and that Patrick character. I bet he was in on it too wasn't he? What, you don't think I noticed how close he stayed to you?" She gave Teresa a pitying look then, "You know what Jessica? I'd probably be doing you a favor by killing him." She pointed to Patrick who was still out cold in the hallway. "Sooner or later he'll stab you in the back, and you'd be lucky if it ain't literally too." She paused, "You know he's done it before. He uses people, if you think that he cares one damn about you then you're a bigger fool than I thought." Teresa had finished taping her legs to the chair. Hernandez put her gun on the table and moved toward her captive. She then grabbed both of her arms and positioned them behind the back of the chair before taping them together. "You don't have to do this," Teresa began but before she could say anything else, Hernandez cut her off.

"Pretty little thing like you; I bet he has all kinds of plans in store. You know how he treats his women don't you?"

Teresa shook her head, knowing that she shouldn't engage in this line of conversation but at that moment she just couldn't help herself. "He's not like that." She insisted which made Hernandez laugh.

"Sure honey, you keep telling yourself that. I'm sure Vicky thought the same thing, and you know what happened to her."

Teresa's mind began to race. "What happened?" she asked.

"You mean you really don't know?"

Teresa shook her head and Hernandez moved round to face her once more. She looked into her eyes but just as she was about to explain, something in her expression changed, "Oh, very good! You almost had me."

"What are you talking about?" Teresa asked, noticing that Patrick has begun to stir.

"You think you can keep me talking, distract me, get me to bond with you so I'll let you go?" Uh uh."

"No, I really want to know. Everyone keeps telling that he's dangerous but I want to know why." She had to keep her attention away from Patrick. "How about we make a deal. You tell me about Patrick and I tell you...where the stash is?" She lied. Hernandez looked at her for a moment. "You little bitch! I knew you had it! Where is it?" She demanded.

"Tell me about Patrick." Teresa countered.

"That lying sack of scum, he..." but before she could finish there was a loud bang and Hernandez had fallen to the floor. It took Teresa a few seconds to register what had happened before her eyes focused on Patrick who was now standing in front of her holding Hernandez's gun.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied. "Untie me so we can get the hell out of here." Patrick pulled out a switchblade from jacket and proceeded to cut the tape that held her to the chair and once she was free the two of them made a swift exit to his car.

By the time they reached the car Teresa's mind had become a bit more coherent. She stopped and stood in front of the driver's side door staring at Patrick. "What are you waiting for?" he asked impatiently.

"You just got shot," She began, "but you're not bleeding?" Patrick lifted up his shirt and tapped the Kevlar vest he wore underneath. "That's why you weren't worried I'd shoot you." She deduced, referring to earlier that morning. Patrick nodded. "Do you always wear one of those?" she asked.

"I never know when a crazy woman is gonna pull a gun on me." he teased. He was doing his best to smile but Teresa noticed that he was trying to hide the pain. She looked down at his shirt where a bullet sized hole had been made just over his abdomen.

"We need to get you to a hospital, have that looked at, you made have broken something."

"No, I'm fine, get in the car, we need to go now."

"Give me the keys." she demanded. "I'm driving."

He was about to protest when she elaborated, "I'm not going to get killed just because you suddenly pass out from the pain."

"I told you, I'm fine, now move aside."

Teresa stood firm and held out her hand, "Keys, now. This is non negotiable."

He finally relented and handed her the keys. Teresa smiled inwardly as they both got into the car.

As they drove away from the house Patrick took out his cell phone and read a text message. "Take the next left," he told her, "we need to go see your old friend Patterson next."

"We're not going to your place first?" She asked, concerned for his state of health.

"Look you can play nurse to me later, but right now we need to find out if he is behind the death threats. The more time we waste the longer you put your family in danger. So let's just get this done okay?"

She noticed he didn't look at her. "You took her gun?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied and handed her her unarmed Glock. "Cos this one was a lot of help." Teresa took it off him and slid it in the back waistband of her jeans, hidden under leather jacket. "I guess that's why you weren't too worried that I took it. You took the bullets out?" He asked grumpily.

"I never know when a crazy guy is gonna pull a gun on me." She said and he smirked.

"Touché." There was a brief silence before he added, "You could have gotten both of us killed. If she had just aimed for my head instead I wouldn't have been able to save you."

"Oh like you're the big hero in all this!" she rolled her eyes.

"I _did_ save your life." He reminded her.

"You put me in that situation in the first place. I mean what were you thinking going in there without a backup plan?"

"You gun was the back up plan!" he argued.

"And anyway I thought you were supposed to be able to read people; great job you did with her."

"I tried to get you out of the house before she went nuts but you wouldn't move fast enough."

"Oh you're blaming me?" She asked incredulously.

Patrick went silent again, "Talk about my driving getting us killed when you're the one who let me go into a junkie's house unarmed." He muttered. There was another longer moment of silence that stretched on for about ten minutes before Teresa spoke. "Who's Vicky?" she asked, referring to the name Hernandez had spoken of. She takes a swift glance at his face to gauge his reaction before returning her eyes to the road.

He says nothing for a second or two and then replies, his eyes straight ahead, "I don't know, is she another suspect?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Gabriela said she was a woman you knew." She replied.

"Did she?" he asked flatly.

"Is that true?"

He maintained his gaze on the road but his expression gave her the impression that his mind was somewhere else. "Maybe, how the hell should I know Teresa, I've known a lot of women."

Teresa shook her head, expecting such an answer from him. "You killed her!"

That comment got Patrick's attention as he turned around to look at her, his eyes wide. "What?" he asked.

"Gabriela," Teresa explained, "you didn't have to kill her."

"Oh," Patrick said, "she tried to kill me and she would have killed you too if you didn't give her what she wanted. I could see it in her eyes." Teresa went quiet then and Patrick noticed, "Hey, cheer up. One suspect down, two to go."

They arrived at Tom Patterson's house a while later. "I want you to wait here." He told her as he got out of the car.

"No way in hell!" Teresa protested.

"This is also non negotiable Teresa, I don't want you putting my life in danger again. If he is the one behind this, the chances are he'll try to hurt you. He doesn't know me, it's better this way. Besides, I work better alone. Just stay in here, alright?" he asked.

Teresa eyed him suspiciously. "You're going to do something illegal aren't you?"

"No, off course not. I was going to sell him some cookies; what do you think? Look, you hired me, you know how I work so just stay here and let me get on with it." Before she could say another word he was striding off in the direction of the house. She watched as he rang the bell and waited for a reply but no one answered. He rang again but when he got no response she saw him stare up at the bedroom window before walking round to the back of the house. Teresa covered her face with her hands. _What the hell is he doing now? _She wondered as he disappeared from view. It wasn't until ten minutes later that she saw him running back to the car. He quickly got in and took a moment to recover his breath. "What happened?" she asked, concerned.

"It's not him." He told her.

"What did he say?"

"I didn't speak to him, he was passed out on the couch, probably from drinking too much; but I had a look around the place. It's a mess, pills everywhere, he's obviously in a deep state of depression, probably full of self pity. He drinks all day and pops pills at night, I bet he seldom leaves the house. A man like that is unlikely to actively seek revenge."

Teresa had her doubts, "I don't know Patrick, you didn't even speak to the guy..."

"Teresa, if we're gonna do this you have to learn to trust me. I know what I'm talking about, he didn't do it. Now let's get back to the house, I need a bath."

The arrived back at Patrick's house about half an hour later, Teresa had driven faster than usual through both concern for him as well as fear for her own health. Her lack of sleep was beginning to get to her now. As a cop she was used to sleepless nights but the fact that this case was personal took a double toll on her. The fact that she was also working with a potential sociopath had begun to drain the energy right out of her.

They went inside and Teresa, took off her jacket and sat on the couch, resting her head back into the cushions, tempted to close her eyes. They had only been gone a few hours but it felt as if it they had been on the road the whole day. Patrick went into the kitchen to make some tea. Teresa heard him groan a little in pain and she turned around to see if he was okay. "What's wrong?" She asked.

He immediately straightened as he saw he approach. "Nothing," he told her, a little more forcefully than he had intended.

She looked at him and shook her head, "Nothing my ass; your in pain."

"I said it's nothing."

"Patrick, don't be an idiot, let me take a look." He stood there and looked at her and could tell she was serious. "Take off your shirt," she instructed and he began to undo the buttons but when Teresa saw him wince as he tried remove it completely she stopped him by putting her hand on his arm. He looked at her questioningly.

"Here, let me." She said and she slowly slid the shirt from his body. The Kevlar vest was next and she was even more careful with that as it rested close to his skin. Patrick said nothing as she undressed him. Once the vest was off she tried to asses the damage. "It's definitely bruised," she said and then began to tentatively pressed the surrounding area with her fingers. "I don't think any ribs are broken but we should get you to a doctor just to be sure."

"No, it'll lead to too many questions, and besides we don't have time for that." He insisted.

"Do you have any painkillers?" she asked and he nodded.

"Bathroom cabinet." He replied. She went over to the kitchen sink to fill a glass with water and then walked over to the bathroom. She looked around in the cabinet and found what she was looking for, along with some bandages and a first aid kit. When she turned around he was standing behind her, almost making her jump. "Take these," she said as she handed him both the glass and the ibuprofen and then she walked out of the bathroom. When she returned she was carrying a dining chair. "Sit." She told him and he did, somewhat fascinated to see this side of her.

Teresa took a damp cloth and added a little disinfectant before she gently cleaned the area where the bruise was. Patrick did his best not to flinch, the tenderness of her touch helped take his mind off the pain. After cleaning and disinfecting the area, she dried the skin and wrapped the bandages around him. "I've had to do this to Vince more than a few times," she explained. She noticed some faint scarring on his back and she unconsciously reached out to trace them with her fingers. As if reading her thoughts Patrick said, "My father."

"He beat you?" she asked.

He nodded. "It's how I learned to read people. I could tell by the look on his face when a beating was coming and I would take off. Get away from him. In a way I should thank him I guess."

"That's terrible," she said.

He shrugged, "That's life."

When she had finished, she rinsed out the cloth and then moved back to Patrick and began to wipe the droplets of blood off his face, fighting a wave of nausea at the thought that it belonged to Hernandez. She looked at him; he had obviously tried to wipe most of it away but he had missed a bit. She applied the cloth to his temples with the same tenderness she had used on the bruise, slow deliberate strokes, her face so close to his, his lips near her ear. She could feel his breathing quicken and felt her own breaths respond in kind. "Teresa," he almost whispered and she shivered involuntarily as she turned to look at him.

"Yeah," she replied, her hand stilled as she felt his fingers caress her chin and rest near the top of her cheek.

"You have some too, blood, on your face." He took the cloth from her and began to clean her face just as she had done his and when he finished he pulled back and smiled. "All gone." He told her.

"Thank you." She replied. They held each others gaze for a moment before Teresa got up and walked out of the room and into the kitchen. She picked up the blood spattered shirt that lay draped over the chair and she began to wash it in the sink, wanting to wipe away any trace of what had happened. She could feel him come up behind her, the warmth of his body radiating like the sun. She stopped what she was doing as she felt him rest his hands on her hips. His hot breath bathed the back of her neck as he leaned in and kissed her shoulder. She jumped. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"We should move this into the bedroom."

Teresa turned off the faucet and spun around so quickly that he instantly let go of her. "What?" she asked in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"It's okay baby, I may be injured but I can still…"

"Stop!" She said, "Do not even _think_ of finishing that sentence." She walked toward the couch and picked up her jacket.

"Teresa, what's wrong? I thought this is what you wanted?"

"What on Earth gave you that idea?"

"You undress me, wash me - what am I supposed to think?"

"Did it ever occur to you that I just might be concerned about your wound, that I just wanted to help you?"

"Oh come on, you've been attracted to me from the start, don't tell me it didn't cross your mind too."

Teresa felt the anger rise, causing her cheeks to flush. "You know what, you're a jerk!" and with that she stormed off into her room and then slammed the door. Patrick stood there for a moment trying to figure out how he has misread her so badly, then smiled and went into his own bedroom to contact his source regarding the whereabouts of the third suspect on their list - Daniel McCoy.

About twenty five minutes later Patrick lay awake on his bed when he heard a knock on the door. "Patrick,"

Teresa called and he smiled, thinking she had changed her mind. He sauntered over and opened the door but his face dropped at her expression. He looked down and saw that she was holding her cell phone in her hands.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked and she handed him the phone. He read the text message that was already opened:

_I know what you're doing. Do you think you can hide from me? _

"It's him," she told him, "he's been watching us all along!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

Patrick stood there for a moment with Teresa's phone in his hands, his mind racing. "Okay, this is what we're gonna do." He began and then invited her inside, closing the door behind her. She watched as he walked over to a wardrobe and retrieved a small box. He placed the box on the bed and opened it up. "From now on you're only gonna use this," he said. "It's a burner cell." Teresa picked it up and nodded.

"That's a good idea," she agreed. "Maybe we can find a way to trace who sent the text?"

Patrick shook his head, "Waste of time."

Teresa raised her eyebrows at that. "Oh? And why is that?"

Patrick looked at her and sighed impatiently, "Because, there are a number of ways he could have covered his tracks or planted a misdirect. Technology can be fooled but the human body doesn't lie."

"You sound very sure of yourself! And what makes you think this guy's a pro anyhow? For all we know, it's just some whack job trying to scare me."

He looked into her eyes. "You don't believe that. If you did you would have never come to me in the first place; I mean, you're a cop, you can handle a stalker on your own. No, you believe that this has something to do with the gang, that whoever this person is, he's dangerous. You believe that your life is in real jeopardy." He paused, "Tell me I'm wrong Teresa." He challenged. She held his gaze for a few seconds before finally looking away. He smiled, "Thought so. If there's one thing I've learned about you it's that you've got good instincts. Years of experience in law enforcement has honed them."

"My brother lives in Chicago," she began, "whoever's behind this would have had to have researched me." She shivered involuntarily at that thought. "Do you remember when I told Gabriela that I thought someone was watching me after the arrest?"

"Yes." Patrick replied, his voice has grown a little softer now and he gestured for her to sit on the bed. She did and he joined her.

"Well, it wasn't just after they got arrested, while I was there I had the same feeling, like I was being watched. At the time I put it down to paranoia, you know…"

"'Cos you were undercover." He reasoned, "You were afraid of being found out."

She looked up at him, "Yes, or being ratted out."

"I wouldn't have done that." He told her.

"No?" she asked, unsure whether to believe him.

"No." he replied. "What would I get from ratting you out?"

"Respect in the eyes of McVickers? Money?"

Patrick smirked. "I'd rather be feared than respected and as for money…"

"What? You telling me you wouldn't…"

"No, I wouldn't." He interrupted her once more, "I make enough money on my own."

Teresa looked around incredulously. "Seriously?"

Patrick smiled. "The point is I have nothing to gain from hurting you."

"And you think this PI does?" she asked.

"I don't know, maybe."

Teresa began to feel the irritation grow once more. "Damnit Jane we're talking about my life here, and my family's! This is no time for guess work." She looked at him as he tapped his lower lip in thought. "Are you playing me? Is this a scam to just take my money and run?" She got up and stood in front of him.

Patrick looked at her, dropping his hand to his lap. "No, I don't think so." He said after a brief pause.

"You don't think so what? Talk to me Patrick."

He stood up suddenly, as if hit by a revelation. "I don't think your life is in danger."

"So what you're calling me a liar now?"

"No, Teresa, I believe you, but think about it; if he really wanted you dead why hasn't he just killed you already? Why go after your brother? Why just threaten and taunt you like he has? He's trying to scare you; the question is, why? What does he want?"

Teresa remained silent.

"McCoy is a private investigator, he has the resources to do a background check."

"But if what you're saying is right, then who would have hired him?" She asked, though more to herself.

"Think Teresa, what comes to mind?" He asked.

"I don't know." She replied, "There's nothing apart from the fact I was undercover, but if he wants to blackmail me, then why hasn't he just made his demands by now?"

"Hmm, it's interesting. I don't know but we'll find out. We'll head down to Malibu in the morning, my source came through for me again. I have the address of his office. I have a plan but I'm gonna need your help on this one." He told her.

"What kind of help?" She asked.

"I'll tell you in the morning, get some sleep. You're gonna need to be alert for this." She looked at him questioningly. "Look if he was gonna come after us he would have done so by now. I'm not gonna let him hurt you." Teresa was a little taken back by his tone - was that _genuine concern_ for her? Patrick read her expression and promptly added, "I mean, you haven't paid me yet."

"You'll get your money," she told him. "After you get this guy and I know my family is safe."

"We'll get him, I promise. I never fail."

Teresa huffed indignantly but deep inside she prayed that he was right. She glanced once more in his direction but saw that he had already lost interest in the conversation and was already climbing back into bed, his back to her. She walked out of the room just as Patrick had turned off the light and she closed the door, went back to her bedroom and prepared for yet another sleepless night.

Patrick was up with the dawn the following morning. Teresa had managed to drift off in the early hours but still found that the slightest noise woke her up. She opened her eyes and listened as he walked about the house. She felt tired and drained and more than a little cranky. Getting out of bed, she slowly walked to the door, opened it and quietly made her way to the bathroom wearing the shirt he had given her. Once there she showered and washed her face. She emerged from the bathroom about fifteen minutes later, now fully dressed. She walked into the living room where she saw Patrick sitting on the couch with a duffle bag on the seat next to him and a cup of tea in his hand. As she entered the room he looked up at her. "Made you some," he told her pointing to the cup that was one the coffee table.

Teresa sat down on the armchair opposite him and took the cup in her hands. "Tea?" she asked skeptically.

He nodded, "It's more soothing than coffee, thought you could do with it...after last night."

"Thanks," she said and took a sip.

"I need you to have your wits about you today." He added.

"What's all this?" She asked, referring to the bag.

"We're heading down to Malibu, pay McCoy a visit, in a manner of speaking."

Teresa looked at him askance, "What's the plan?"

"Once we get to the house I'm going to call him up. I'll pretend I'm a client, someone who thinks his wife is cheating on him and I want him to find out for me." He then took out a gold wedding band and placed it on his left finger.

"I'm not even going to ask where you got that from." Teresa said as she drank her tea and listened as he continued.

"I'll tell him she told me she's made plans to go out with some of her girlfriends tonight, there's a club not too far from the house, I'll tell him that's where she's going and have him go there to try and catch her in the act. I'll follow him, then call you when everything's in place."

"What if he recognizes you?" She asked him.

"That won't be a problem. It's not me he's after, but if he does give me any trouble…"

"No don't….don't tell me. The less I know the better." She paused, "What do you want me to do?"

"Drive to his office and look through his case files. We need to find out if he has been investigating you and who hired him."

"We're talking about breaking and entering, theft…"

"Yes," he replied simply. "I'll keep him occupied until you let me know if you've found anything important. A potential client who could have hired him."

"And then what?"

"Then you get the hell out of there and back to the house. Take your gun with you; and this time make sure it's loaded. If things go wrong, you might need it."

"Wait, what is this house you keep mentioning?" she asked.

He smiled, "You'll see."

The drive down from Sacramento to Malibu was a long one, they were on the road for a good seven hours, making the occasional stop for food and bathroom breaks. By the time they reached their destination it was late afternoon. Patrick pulled up outside a big house not too far from the beach. They got out of the car and walked towards the front door. "What is this place?" Teresa asked, in awe of the glass facade and the beautiful garden in the front.

"Home." He said as he opened the front door and they went inside.

The interior was even more impressive, polished hardwood floors, a big winding staircase which swept over the top of the living room, big windows everywhere, each perfectly draped with velvet blinds. "You live here" she asked, almost breath-taken.

"Sometimes," He replied. "when I'm working in LA."

"What exactly do you do in LA?" she asked but he deliberately ignored the question, instead leading her upstairs. She followed him and they stopped in front of a white paneled door with a gold handle. Teresa looked at him questioningly.

"This is your room for the duration of our stay here. Feel free to have a look in the closet, there's bound to be something in there that'll fit you. There's also an en suite if you want to freshen up." Before Teresa could say anything he was already walking back down the stairs. She opened the door and walked in; the room was beautiful. Crisp white satin sheets on the bed, a plush armchair in the corner. To the left of the room was a triple door closet. Teresa moved in that direction and opened the doors. She was surprised to find a row of women's clothes hanging from the rail. She looked through them and discovered that they were all brand new; still had the tags on them. She wondered why he would have them there and then a sickening thought occurred to her. This is his bachelor pad, it's where he brings his potential conquests. "Jerk!"she said quietly to herself. She walked over to the bathroom to wash her face but as she opened the door to the en suite she was once again in awe. There before her was a huge shower enclosure, the kind she only saw in fancy magazines. She took a few steps towards it and examined the control panel on the wall. She pushed the button that said 'MP3' and instantly the room was filled with the sound of an old R Kelly song:

_No I'm not tryin to be rude, but hey pretty girl I'm feelin you…._

Teresa began to feel herself relax a little as she went to the washbasin and turned on the faucet and started to lather the bar of soap in her hands. She was too busy listening to the song that she didn't hear Patrick walk up behind her. He reached out and put his hand on her arm to get her attention, but the tiredness and anxiety had her on the edge and as a result she had become a little jumpy. The second she felt his hand she reacted instinctively, she grabbed it and turned around quickly, forcing him to do the same, his arm now forcefully held by her behind his back. It took him a moment to realise what had happened and then he laughed. "You're getting better." he told her. "If only you'd done that to be in the barn that day, maybe things would have ended differently."

Shut up." She replied and let him go. "I thought we agreed not to talk about that."

"You agreed, I have no problems talking about what happened." He turned around to face her.

Teresa turned her back to him and tried to wash the remaining soap off her hands but Patrick stopped her. Grasping her slippery hand in his he moved closer. "The only reason you beat me that day was because I got distracted by the gun shot. If McVickers hadn't decided to shoot his competition then I would have easily come out on top."

Teresa smirked at his arrogance and took a step closer to him so that there were only a few inches between them "Let's get one thing straight Patrick, when it comes to you and me, I'll always be on top."

He grinned, "oh baby, I have no problem with that."

Teresa stepped back, shaking her hand from his grasp. "Well there are no distractions now," she began, "why don't we finish what we started?"

The look in his eyes told her he was game and she was more than ready to kick his ass again. Patrick smiled, "Why not." He replied, "But I gotta warn you Teresa, I don't play fair." He said and suddenly grabbed her arms and used the momentum to push her against the wall of the shower enclosure. "I play to win." With one arm holding her in place he quickly used his free hand to turn on the shower. Teresa stood there as multiple shower heads sprung to life, soaking her from head to toe with cold water, the shock of which forced her to take a few sharp intakes of breath. Patrick, who was also drenched, focused his attention on her once more. Using the same move he did on her in the alley, he grabbed both of her arms and held them over her head again, pressing his body into hers while the music played on.

_It's the remix to ignition, hot and fresh out the kitchen. Mama rollin that body, got every man in here wishin…_

"I've always known that about you Patrick Jane. You wouldn't know the meaning of fair. It's all about you isn't it?" She said, her voice rising, though more out of frustration that he had caught her off guard than through anger.

Unperturbed by her comment, but turned on by the authoritative way she called him by his full name, he moved his face closer to hers, "do you want it to be about you, Teresa Lisbon, huh?" he whispered, his breath hot in her ear, sending a small trail of fire through her body in spite of the temperature of the water. "Why don't you show me?" Teresa tried to struggle out of his grasp. "Show me what you like." Teresa's frustration continued to grow. Unable to move her arms she brought up her knee and aimed for his crotch but Patrick moved back before it hit its intended target. Teresa growled and Patrick laughed, noticing the way her eyes had grown wide with arousal; her pupils dilated. He smiled smugly and then leaned and kissed her. After a few seconds he pulled back and looked into her eyes. A thrill of delight coursed through him when he realised she had stopped struggling. He let go of her arms, his own slowly working their way down her body to rest on her hips. He kissed her again, his mouth open, his tongue seeking hers. She let out an involuntary moan and it was as if her arms began moving of their own volition, wrapping themselves around his neck, her fingers weaving through his golden curls, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

Taking his cue from her he reached between them and began to unbutton her blouse, eliciting another moan from Teresa as she began to shiver. Patrick felt her shaking in his arms and encircled her waist then turned her away from the jets of cold water. He then slid the blouse off her shoulders as his mouth moved to her neck, biting a little. Teresa followed suit, her fingers working the buttons on his shirt until they were all undone and his chest exposed to her. "Tell me the truth Teresa," Patrick began, "this is the what you've wanted to happened since that day in the barn isn't it?"

Teresa pulled back at that comment, her breathing coming in short heated bursts. "Get over yourself, you conceited son of a bitch. I haven't been spending these last few months craving to be your next conquest."

"Don't lie to me woman, I can see it in your eyes, this is what you've wanted since we met." He kissed her again, hotly, pulling her so close to his body she could almost feel his heart beat. It was she who broke the kiss this time and slapped him across his face, but as she turned and began to walk away saw the small smile that threatened to break out on her face and so he moved toward her and grabbed her arm. Teresa spun around and sent him crashing to the floor while she kneeled on top of him. He reached out for her shoulders and pulled her toward him, his lips seeking hers once more and this time she capitulated, fully immersing herself in the kiss. When Patrick felt her body relax in his arms he flipped her so she was under him. He pulled back to look at her, his eyes moving from the silky dark wavy hair on her head down to her neck where and the gold chain that hung about it. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path around the chain, downwards and around the cross and back up the other side. Teresa closed her eyes as Patrick began to kiss her neck, stopping at the golden chain, where his tongue then retraced the path of his finger. He looked at her as she opened her eyes and they held each others gaze for a second or two. Patrick looked at the tenderness in her eyes and was shocked to see himself in those emerald orbs, his expression mirroring her own. Suddenly a wave of panic and fear stole the warmth from his heart as he stood up and swiftly exited the bathroom.

"Patrick?" Teresa asked as she too got up off the floor and went after him. She met him in her bedroom, pacing around like a madman. "What is it, what's wrong?"

He stopped pacing and turned around to face her. "Why did you come to me for help Teresa?" he demanded, his voice had grown harsh, cold. "And don't give me any bullshit, I want the real reason."

"I told you the real reason. What the hell is the matter with you?" she asked.

He looked at her as she stood there shivering in her bra and jeans. "don't think that this meant anything other than what it was."

"And what was this?" she asked and he noticed the slight hint of sadness she was trying to hide in her voice and he found he couldn't look at her.

"A fun way to pass the time," he paused. "don't go thinking there's anything more to it than that. I don't do love." She heard his voice almost break on that last part. "Get changed before you make yourself sick!" he ordered. "We have work to do."

"I guess Gabriela was right after all." She began, feeling the initial numbness she felt give way to anger. "Is this the way you treat all your women? Is this how you treated Vicky?"

He didn't answer her but as he turned to leave she could have sworn his eyes had begun to water upon hearing that name but before she could call him out on it he left the room. Teresa watched as he practically ran down the stairs, grabbed his car keys and left the house, slamming the front door behind him.

A/N: Once again I would like to thank everyone for their reviews/follows favorites. I really hope you liked this chapter too. In case you were wondering, the song that's playing is R Kelly's Ignition (Remix).


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you guys are awesome! :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

Patrick sat in his car for a few minutes, trying to get his breathing under control. The pain in his chest made it harder, though he was not sure whether the discomfort was due to his bruised ribs or something else. It had been a while since anyone had succeeded in getting him so worked up that he had forgotten how unsettling the loss of control felt. As the minutes drifted by he felt calm once again return and he turned the ignition on and pulled out of the driveway. It wasn't long before he arrived at the beach. He turned off the engine and buttoned up his shirt, hiding the bandage that Teresa had so carefully put on him not so long ago. His clothes were still wet and he hoped that the warmth of the sun would dry them out before he had to go and meet McCoy. He was glad he was dressed in smart casual attire, it wouldn't look too out of place at the club. He couldn't face going back to the house so soon and to her questions. She was starting to become a bit of a liability and he knew he had to be even more careful around her now. His instincts had told him not to accept a job from a cop, but he found he didn't want to turn her down. From the first time he laid eyes on her there was something about her that had captivated him and he hated the loss of control he felt whenever he was around her. He took a few more deep breaths and put her out of his mind. He couldn't afford to think of her too much, he knew it would only lead to trouble and he was starting to realise that Teresa Lisbon was trouble wrapped up in a beautiful petite package.

He got out of the car and took a walk on the sand, the bright afternoon sun warming his body as it began to dry his clothes. He came to a relatively quiet spot and sat down. His mind felt like a fishbowl with his thoughts swimming around incessantly in all different directions. He knew he couldn't be this way when he met McCoy later that day, he needed clarity. He lay down on the sand with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths he began to feel his mind begin calm.

Just then a scene from his past came into his mind:

_"__Hey," he said as he entered the barn._

_"__Patrick! You startled me." She turned around to face him and he could have sworn he saw a hint of guilt flash across her face for just a fraction of a second._

_"__It's Jessica isn't it? McVickers' girl?" He smiled a menacing smile as he crossed the small distance between them to stand in front of her_

_"__Yes, but...I'm not really…"_

_"__Not really what?" He asked, all the time trying to read her expression; she was definitely hiding something._

_She averted her eyes from his intense gaze and he could see the slight flush on her cheeks. "I'm not really his girl."_

_"__Oh," he nodded knowingly and smiled. "Well I'm very glad to hear that. Someone like you shouldn't really be involved with someone like him." He took a few steps closer._

_"__Someone like me?"Teresa asked._

_"__Someone, delicate, sheltered." He explained, watching for her reaction. "McVickers is a dangerous man."_

_Teresa moved closer "I've heard you're a pretty dangerous man yourself."_

_"__Hmm, my reputation precedes me. What else heave you heard?" Teresa looked around nervously. He put his hands on her shoulders and he could see her fight the urge to push him away. "What's wrong Jessica? Why so nervous?"_

_"__We shouldn't be talking like this."She said, "He could walk in here any minute."_

_"__Are you afraid he'll hurt you if he sees you talking to me?"_

_"__No, I'm afraid he'll hurt you!" She replied._

_"__Aww Jessica, I didn't know you cared." He teased._

_"__I don't. You should go, now."_

_"__Relax, he's busy dealing with Richards, no one knows we're here." He moved closer still, reached out to touch her face. She grabbed his arm and pulled it away. Patrick noticed the fire in her eyes and smiled. "Looks like there's more to you than the meek and mild role you play; it is a role isn't it?"_

_"__We all play a role Patrick, even you."_

_"__But you, you're not who you seem to be." He looked into her eyes and saw his comment have an effect on her. "Who are you Jessica?"_

_"__If you're trying to hit on me Patrick it's not working." She turned around to leave but he took hold of her arm and she once more grabbed his hand, took it off her and pushed him away. _

_"__Ah, I didn't think so, you're not delicate or sheltered, you're a strong woman, I can see that, question is, what are you doing here?" He looked into her emerald green eyes, searching for the truth._

_"__Vince wanted me to…"_

_"__No, Jessica, if that is your real name," his voice had grown softer, yet somehow more menacing. "I mean, what are you doing here? In this situation?"_

_Teresa gave him a question look, "I don't know what you mean Patrick, and I have to go now."_

Patrick smiled as the memories came back to him but then caught himself and sat up, annoyed that he let himself think of her again and especially with such fondness. She was just another job, another paycheck in the waiting, that was all. He needed to steel himself again, give his mind something else to focus on besides the pretty brunette whom he had left cold and confused at his house. He felt the throb of pain once more and he knew that was the key. He swung his legs behind him and supported himself on his arms which were on the sand in front of him, shoulder width apart. He straightened his legs into the classic push up position and proceeded to lower his body and then lift himself back up to the starting position again. After the twelfth one he felt the pain intensify but he pressed on; telling himself that he wouldn't stop until the pain burned away the thought of her from his mind. It wasn't until the forty seventh one that his arms began to give way and and the fire in his chest spread through his entire body, causing him to finally stop. Breathless, he gently lowered himself to the ground and turned to lie on his back, his eyes closed. He was relieved that his mind had finally cleared and all he had was the pain, consuming him, holding him in its white hot grip both from without and within as different memories began to rise to the surface.

_Patrick sat at the bar of a fancy hotel in Los Angeles. It had been a very productive day and he had made a lot of money so he had decided to go out and celebrate. "Excuse me," said the voice of a woman who had just walked up to him. "Are you Patrick Jane?" He looked her up and down, noticing how the silky lilac colored cocktail dress she wore skimmed her curves perfectly. _

_He smiled charmingly, "Well, that depends on who's asking." He replied._

_The woman held out her hand, "My name's Vicky," she said, "Vicky Hamilton." _

His thoughts flashed forward in time then:

_He held her tightly in his arms as they entered her bedroom, his lips hungering on hers as they fell onto the bed. "Patrick," she breathed as she tore her lips from his, "I don't think this is a good idea." _

_"__Shhh, it's okay," he said and then proceeded to take off her blouse and pants. He felt her tense underneath him. _

_"__No, Patrick, I think we should stop." _

Patrick remembered looking into her eyes then, seeing that she was serious and then his thoughts changed gear and the next memory he had was of Vicky lying on the floor, her clothes torn and him standing in a pool of her blood, looking at her still form, feeling his heart race and anger flow through his veins.

As Patrick lay on the sand he felt a shockwave of emotion grip him as he remembered what had happened that night; what he had done to cause it. It was at that moment that everything went black and silence fell upon him as he passed out from the pain.

Teresa sat on the bed in the guest room at Jane's house, she had taken a warm shower and had changed her clothes. He was right, there had been many clothes that were her size in the closet. She softly ran her hand over the silky satin sheets, wondering how many other women he had brought over here. She was surprised when a trickle of jealousy crept through her mind. She knew the man was far from a saint but couldn't help but feel a little slighted and used at the way he had just left her there in the bathroom. She walked up to the full length mirror on the opposite wall, blowdryer in hand and began to dry her hair. She found the warmth comforting, it was something she had needed ever since this whole thing began. She thought back to just half an hour ago when he had been lying on top of her, his lips on her neck and remembered that when she had opened her eyes, the look on his face was one she had never seen before but it was gone before she could properly take it in and then he was gone not long after. She pushed aside the thoughts that nagged at the back of her mind, not wanting to think of what might be happening between them. _Don't think this is anything more than it is._ He had told her. She looked at herself in the mirror and laughed. She knew that she was at most just another notch on the bedpost and made a mental note to herself that the next time she saw him, she would punch him in the nose for all the crap he was putting her through.

When she had finished dry her hair she scooped it back with her hands and secured it into a ponytail. She looked at the time on her phone, it had been half an hour since he had left and she wondered if he was okay. She realized in hindsight that tackling him to the floor may not have been the best idea, given that he was injured; but just as she began to feel regret at her actions, she remembered the way he had reacted when she had mentioned Vicky's name and she knew she was onto something. Gabriela Hernandez had known something about his past and he had killed her before she had a chance to find out what. At the time he claimed it was because she was going to kill them both but now that she thought about it, she wondered if that had all been a lie, and he had really killed her to stop her from telling the truth. She couldn't stop the shiver that ran through her spine at the thought that he could really be as dangerous as his reputation would have her believe. Teresa moved away from the mirror and then went down to the kitchen to get herself something to eat while she waited for Patrick to call.

About an hour later and now with dry clothes, Patrick opened his eyes. Looking at his watch he realised that he had just over thirty five minutes to get to the club where he would meet McCoy. Standing up as quickly as he could, he dusted the sand off himself and walked backed to his car. The sun had already started to set and darkness had began to descend as he drove towards the club. The pain had begun to fade a little and he found that the rest had helped him cope with it a lot better. He arrived at his destination not long afterwards. Turning off the engine he looked at his watch; McCoy should arrive in just under fifteen minutes. He took a look at himself in the rearview mirror and ran his hand through his hair, trying to make himself look as presentable as possible before he got out of the car and walked towards the entrance. He had no problems getting inside and once there he made his way to the bar and ordered a scotch. He glanced around the room and saw a few women give him the eye, he smiled at them and then cast his eyes back towards the bartender who put his drink down in from of him. On any other day he would have gladly welcomed the female attention but he had learnt the hard way never to mix business with pleasure. The minutes drifted by and Patrick looked at his watch again. It was now seven fifty three and there was still no sign of McCoy. Patrick did not like to be kept waiting. He took out his cell phone and dialed the number. It rang several times before going to voicemail. He tried again but got the same result. Something was wrong, McCoy was supposed to be here twenty five minutes ago. A sinking feeling came over Patrick as he virtually leaped off the bar stool and made his way back to the car.

Teresa was asleep on the couch when she heard the doorbell ring. She slowly opened her eyes and reached for her phone but became concerned when she saw no missed calls or texts from Patrick. He was supposed to call her some time ago. She almost jumped when she heard the doorbell ring again. She stood up and retrieved her gun from her purse which was on the armchair in the corner. She loaded it, put it in the back waistband of her jeans, walked towards the front door, and peered through the peephole but she didn't see anybody. She walked back into the living room and looked out of the window to try and see who it was but there was no one to be seen. She was about to take a step back when she heard the click of a safety being unlocked and she froze. "Turn around slowly." A male voice said. She did as he asked feeling her gun being swiftly removed from where she had placed it.

When she turned to face him she saw that it was a man in his mid forties and he was pointing a gun at her. "Who are you?" she asked.

"You must be Teresa Lisbon." He began, "My name's Daniel McCoy, and you have made a terrible mistake."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So here's chapter 7 of the story. Again my thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

Teresa did her best to maintain a calm front but inside her heart was racing. She was face to face with the man she believed was trying to kill her. "Take it easy," she began, her voice soft. "Nobody needs to get hurt."

He looked at her for a moment. "Are you alone?" She nodded. "Good." He then slowly lowered his weapon. "We need to talk."

"Okay," Teresa replied. "What do you want?"

"I know what you've been doing, you and that Jane." Teresa heard the disdain in his voice at the mention of Patrick's name.

"I know. I got your text." She said.

"What text?" he asked.

"The text you sent me a couple of days ago." She clarified

He shook his head, "I didn't send you any text." He paused, noticing the confused look on her face. "I know that you have been sent death threats Ms Lisbon, and that Jane has told you that they came from me, but it's not true."

"How do you know my name, and where I've been staying? How did you even get in here?" She asked.

"I am a private detective," he explained. "It had come to my attention that Mr Jane was involved in some, shall we say, unsavory dealings with McVickers' second." Teresa raised her eyebrows. "I was hired to investigate him, I noticed he had his eye on you. Figured sooner or later he'd turn you. Guess I was right."

"What are you talking about?" She asked, mildly offended.

"I'll give him this though, he did a pretty good job, you being a cop and all."

"You knew didn't you, that I was…"

"Undercover? Not at first, you did a good job, but the way he expressed such interest in you, I knew there had to be something more to you. He usually is the love them and leave them type."

Teresa cringed inside. "What was he into?" She asked, her curiosity peaked. "With Luis?"

"You really don't know do you? Drugs, guns, hits, girls…"

"Girls?" She asked incredulously. "You don't mean he was…"

"Yes, I heard he made a lot of money too," He laughed, "how do you think he could afford a place like this?" Teresa felt a wave of nausea hit her then and it was all she could do to stop herself from throwing up. McCoy noticed. "What, you didn't think he was a good guy did you? Some kind of lost soul that could be saved? What is he paying you?" He asked.

"Nothing. I'm not working for him."

"Not yet. He'll gain your trust and then it'll be too late. But you're one of the lucky ones, he's seen something special in you, there was only one other he felt that way about, but that was years ago."

"Vicky." She whispered but he heard her.

"Oh so you heard about her huh?" He paused. "Let me tell you about the kind of man Patrick Jane really is."

Teresa shook her head vehemently "No, I'm not going to listen to your lies, get out, now!"

"I think you're forgetting I'm the one with the gun here." He reminded her.

"If you wanted to hurt me you would have done so by now." She told him, praying to God that she was right.

"You got guts, I can see why he would find you useful." He looked at her intently, "You say you don't want to know but your eyes give you away. Don't you want to know the truth Ms Lisbon?"

She stared him down defiantly. "You didn't answer my question; how did you get in?"

He smirked, "Through the back door. It was unlocked, I guess Mr Jane doesn't care much about your security." Although Teresa fought the thought that McCoy was trying to plant into her head, she couldn't help the sting of pain that unexpectedly pierced her heart at his words. Was she really being that naive? A million thoughts ran through her mind but her brain just couldn't make her mouth move. She was frozen on the spot for what felt like an eternity. "Sit down, Ms Lisbon. I have no desire to hurt you, as long as you don't do anything stupid." Teresa did as he asked, crossing her arms over her chest, her breathing shallow, audible. "Vicky was one of his girls. He met her while he was performing a hit in LA. He tricked her into it and before she knew what had happened he had taken her passport and..something else." Teresa's eyes asked the question her lips wouldn't dare. "Her daughter."

Teresa gave an involuntary gasp at that revelation and McCoy seemed to delight in her reaction. "No." She whispered. "No, you're lying."

He shook his head and laughed. "You really don't understand what kind of man he is do you? You know, I would have thought that you being a cop would have made you a better judge of character." He looked at her then as if trying to examine her expression. "Unless, there's something clouding your judgement?"

Teresa swallowed, "What did he do to her?" She asked, deliberately ignoring his question, "What did he do to Vicky?"

McCoy raised an eyebrow at her, "What do you think?" Teresa just looked at him, her eyes willing him to say the words out loud. "He killed her."

"No," Teresa wouldn't believe it.

"I had a look at the coroner's report, she was raped and beaten before being shot in the head. The bruising all over her body was estimated as having happened at least an hour before her death. He took his time with her before he ended her life."

"No!" Teresa repeated, fighting the bile she felt swirling around in her stomach. "No, he wouldn't do that."

"You know he's a killer, you know what he's capable of. You think that just 'cos he's taken a liking to you that he's suddenly a good guy? That man is unstable and you deserve to know what you're getting into. He takes what he wants and kills anyone who gets in the way. He's a sociopath, cold and ruthless."

"Why are you telling me this? What do you want?" She asked.

"I need you to know that you've got the wrong man. I didn't send you any text and I'm not trying to kill you. In fact, when I found out I was being framed I started looking into his file again and I have reason to believe that the person who sent you the threats was Patrick Jane himself!"

She couldn't help the involuntary laugh that escaped her then. "Why would he do that?"

"Think about it Ms Lisbon, he was always hanging around you while you were undercover, didn't you ever get the feeling that he was watching you all the time, paying a little too much attention to you?" Teresa said nothing but silently found herself agreeing with everything he was saying. "This is how it started with Vicky. He made her feel like she was special, that he was going to protect her till she was so far under his spell that she…"

"Are you saying that he wants to be my pimp?"

McCoy paused before answering, "I don't think so; he wants to use you, but I think it has more to do with the fact that you're a cop. Think about it, if he kills me and then the threats stop, you'll think he got the right man, and then you'll be grateful to him and somewhere down the line he'll expect you to return the favor, and as a cop, I'm sure he'll expect something big from you." He could see that his words were giving her pause for consideration. "Give me your phone."

"Why?" she asked.

"I want to give you my number. Think about what I've said, you're a cop, I'm sure you have connections. Do some research and when you see that I'm telling the truth, give me a call. This man is dangerous and together we might be able to stop him. In the meantime I suggest you get outta here, go someplace he won't think to find you." Teresa gave him her cell and he punched his phone number into it before giving it back to her. He then left the house the same way he had entered. Teresa didn't even think about stopping him, instead she sat in the armchair, her head whirling with disbelief and betrayal.

...

Patrick drove as fast as he could towards McCoy's feeling that something was wrong hovered around him like a bad smell that wouldn't go away. He finally arrive there a few minutes later. McCoy's office was on the ground floor of a small building. Patrick walked up to the entrance and he saw that the main door to the office building had been unlocked and was slightly ajar. He examined the door but saw no sign of forced entry. Patrick entered the hallway cautiously, his hand firmly wrapped around the gun he took from Gabriela Hernandez's house. He was glad he had brought it with him. The place was dark, empty and there was barely any light coming in from the street lamps outside. Patrick thought about using his cell phone to help him see in the dark but then thought better of it, the place looked empty but he couldn't help but wonder if this was all a carefully laid trap and he didn't want to put a target on his own back.

Patrick had no idea which of the dozen or so rooms was McCoy's office, so he carefully looked at the lettering on each of the doors he passed until he came upon the right one and when he tried the handle he found that it too was unlocked. Once inside he headed straight for the metal desk to the left of the room behind which was a filing cabinet. He tested one of the drawers; it was locked. Patrick smirked as he moved back to the desk. He came across a tray which held a few sticks of gum, some random pieces of paper and some paperclips. He took one and proceeded to pick the lock on the filing cabinet and once this was accomplished he then took out a handful of files, sat down on the desk chair and began searching them systematically. About a minute later he stopped, his attention was caught on a blinking light coming from under the desk. He put the file he was looking at down and moved to see what it was, only discover that it was coming from the desktop tower on the floor. _His computer's still on. _He thought as his hand automatically moved to the mouse, the motion causing the monitor to spring to life but the screen had been locked and password protected. Patrick stared at the screen for a moment, wanting to break the password and access his files. McCoy had been investigating the gang for a while and probably had a lot of dirt on them. Patrick really wanted to get his hands on what he knew but decided to continue his search through the paper files first. After having no luck with the first batch, he went back to the filing cabinet and took out some more. He sat back down at the desk, the light from the computer now helping him to see. He proceeded to read. The first couple of files held nothing useful but his eyes widened as he came upon the third. "Vicky." He breathed, as he saw her picture in the case file. He closed the folder and kept it to one side, combing through the others in the pile. He soon discovered that McCoy had kept meticulous notes on many people involved with McVickers including Teresa. He opened her file and read, skimming through the pages until something caught his eye. "So he knew she was a cop huh?" He said quietly to himself. He looked through to the end of her file and realized that the information it held was fairly recent. He was still investigating her, though he couldn't be sure as to why. Patrick looked around the room, remembering that as he entered the desk chair had been positioned away from the desk and towards the wall, as if someone had stood up quickly and neglected to put it back again. He then realized that McCoy must have left here in a hurry, forgetting to turn his computer off or locking the doors. A thought occurred to him; if McCoy had been keeping tabs on Teresa, then it was likely he would be aware that she was here, in Malibu. Fearing that he may have gone straight to her he took out his cell phone and dialed her number. "Come on Teresa pick up." He said quietly but the phone just rang through to voicemail. He tried again and got the same result. He stood up to leave but just as he did so he noticed another file. He slowly bent down to look at it. On the front of the manilla folder was a name that he was so intimately familiar with; his own. Patrick Jane. McCoy had been researching him as well!

...

Teresa sat in the living room of Patrick Jane's house, debating with herself as to whether she should check out McCoy's claims. On the one hand, the cop in her wanted to find out if what he had told her was true, but there was another part of her that didn't want to know. She had always believed Patrick Jane to be a decent human being deep down but the thought that he could be a cold and ruthless killer, without conscience, jarred her deeply, more than she wanted to admit to herself. It had been about fifteen minutes since McCoy had left when she finally decided to make that call, either way, she had a right to know whom she was dealing with.

Picking her cell phone up off the chair's arm, she dialed the number of a trusted friend of hers who worked at the California Bureau of Investigation. "Hello," came a female voice on the other end.

"Hey Naomi, it's Teresa Lisbon, how are you?" she greeted.

"Oh you know, they're keeping us busy, how're you enjoying your time off? Think it's been eight months since you were last on leave." She asked.

Teresa let out a sigh, "I need a favor." She replied.

"Sure anything, shoot."

"I need you to see if we have anything on a guy named Patrick Jane."

"Sure, I'll have a look now for you."

"Great, thanks Naomi, give me a call back on this number." She told her and then hung up. Setting the phone down onto the coffee table she stood up and began to walk around. Ten minutes later her cell phone rang. "Hello," Teresa answered, slightly breathless.

"Hey Teresa, it's me. I got the info you asked for."

"Okay, what did you find?" she asked.

"This guy is shady, it says he was accused of rape and murder a while back, a woman, Victoria Hamilton. I'm just looking at the crime scene photo and it's brutal. There were interviews with several people, they claimed he was in love with her, there are some reports that she was a prostitute, but it's all mostly hearsay and conjecture, they couldn't prove anything and the case got dismissed."

Teresa swallowed hard. "Was there anything to suggests that Hamilton had a child?"

There was a moment's pause before Naomi spoke, "It says here that she did have one child, a daughter, Emily, but no one knows what happened to her. After the murder the local cops put out a missing person's alert for her but she was never found."

"Okay," Teresa said, her voice had grown quiet now. "thanks for that Naomi. I owe you one."

"No problem Teresa. Hey did you hear about Patterson?"

Teresa paused, "What about Patterson?" she asked.

"They found his body this morning; gun shot wound to the head, coroner says it looks like suicide." Naomi informed her.

"This morning? They found his body this morning?"

"Yeah, but the coroner puts the time of death sometime yesterday afternoon. Teresa...are you still there?"

Teresa shook herself out of her thoughts, "Yeah Naomi, I'm still here, look I've gotta go, thanks again."

"Okay, you take care."

"You too, bye." She hung up the phone and closed her eyes realising the implications of what her friend had just told her. She knew then that she should have gone with Patrick to see Patterson. It was starting to look like McCoy had spoken the truth. She inhaled deeply, feeling grateful; that Naomi hadn't asked why she had wanted the information. She and Naomi had come up through the force together, been through a lot and there was an unspoken level of trust between the two colleagues. When Teresa opened her eyes again she stood up and walked upstairs and to her room. Once there, she picked up her clothes which she had worn when they first arrived at the house and packed them away in her purse. She had had doubts from the moment she entered into this deal with Patrick. They had slowly begun to drizzle into her thoughts, but with the latest revelation those doubts had grown stronger, gaining momentum like a gathering storm; its clouds threatening to burst at any moment and turn into a deluge that would saturate her mind, grey clouding her world.

Once she had packed her things she took out her cell phone from her back jeans pocket and dialed another number. "Daniel McCoy," a male voice answered.

"McCoy, I did some digging and you may be right, I think we need to talk." She said.

"Good, meet me at the Chase hotel in half an hour, I'll text you the address." He told her.

"Okay," she said.

"I'm looking forward to working with you Ms Lisbon, your record at the CBI is impeccable. I think that with the two of us working together we can finally take down Patrick Jane, for once and for all!"

**A/N: By the way the Chase hotel was completely made up - I have no idea if such a place exists in Malibu. **


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I'm so sorry that it has taken so long to get this chapter out. My life has been really busy and I was sick a couple of weeks back. I really hope that this has chapter has been worth the wait for you all. I'm sorry that I haven't had a chance to respond to those who reviewed the last chapter but I want you all to know that I am so appreciative of your comments and support for this story and I really appreciate that you take the time to leave your reviews. Thank you also to everyone who is following/favourited this story, it does mean a lot :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

Teresa arrived at the Chase hotel about an hour later. She had taken a cab as her own car was back in Sacramento and Patrick had commandeered her only other means of transport. It was dark by the time she got there and her senses were on high alert. She looked up at the abandoned building and towards the rooftop where McCoy had arranged for them to meet. The hotel was a small building by the coast, it was an unassuming structure and Teresa could tell that it must have been a cosy beach hotel in its day but looking at it now, she could see that the life had clearly gone out of it. She eyed it with a certain sense of sympathy, realizing that it was now a poor shadow of the building it once was.

Her hand moved instinctively to the back of her jacket where her fingers made contact with cold metal and she smiled to herself, pleased that she had thought to bring a backup weapon along with her. She had known that dealing with Patrick Jane would get her in trouble and she was right. She made a mental note to herself to get her other Glock back from McCoy. She didn't trust the man and the fact that he wanted to meet her here only fueled the flames of her suspicion.

The ride over to the hotel had given her time to think about the things she had recently discovered about Patrick. All the evidence seemed to suggest that there was something dark in his past, something terrible but she could not escape the feeling that lingered in her heart. She wondered if she was being a fool and began to question why she was so set on taking his side, until an unsettling thought occurred to her which she had to fight to push down. She didn't want to think about that right now; such thoughts would only cause get her into even more hot water and she was head deep in it as it was. Fortunately for her, the cab stopped outside the hotel before those thoughts were allowed to fully advance from their forbidden place in her heart.

She looked up at the building and gave an involuntary shudder before cautiously stepping up to the main entrance. She tried the door but found it locked, the power had undoubtably been cut a long time ago and she knew she would have no choice but to take the stairs for the fire escape. Sighing, she glanced up once more before making her way around to the side of the building and began to climb up the three floors to the rooftop.

By the time she had made her way to the meeting place she was a little out of breath. She opened the roof access door, stepped through it and immediately began to look around for McCoy. The night air had turned somewhat chilly as a cool breeze swept in from the ocean and Teresa found herself pulling her leather jacket tighter around her body. She took a few more steps forward but made sure to stay close to the small wall that went around the perimeter of the roof. "Ms Lisbon," came a male voice from the corner opposite her. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

Teresa looked around but couldn't see anyone. "Where are you?" She asked, her eyes fixed on the spot from where she heard the voice.

"Right here," McCoy said as he stepped out from the shadows and began to walk toward her. "Were you followed?"

"No." She told him. "Now what's going on?"

"Have you heard from Jane?"

"No, nothing. I haven't tried to contact him, I don't know where he is, but if he doesn't hear from me soon I know he'll come looking for me."

"Perhaps. You seem to have become a valuable asset to him."

"I think you may have been right about him, I've reason to believe that he may have killed again, but I can't prove it. Damn it, how could I have been so wrong about him?"

He smirked, "Don't beat yourself up over it Teresa, you're not the first woman to fall for his charms." She felt a little irked at his use of her first name. He gestured her towards a couple of old chairs nearby. They both sat down. "You've made the right choice now though, you need to break free of him while you still can. I've been looking into that man for the past few years and I've come to realise that a trail of death follows him wherever he goes." He paused, "You don't want to end up being another tragic victim on his list."

"You don't seriously think he'll kill me do you?" She tried to laugh but just couldn't manage it.

"I couldn't tell you Teresa, but I do know he doesn't like to be crossed."

"Which is what he'll think I've done if he finds out I've been talking to you." She reminded him. "He's probably on his way back to the house right now, when he finds me gone…"

"He'll come looking for you."

"Yes and…"

"Good, that's exactly what we need." He told her.

"Oh?" she raised her eyebrows at that. "You have a plan, I take it?"

"Indeed I do Ms Lisbon, and I need your help."

"What do you want me to do?" She asked skeptically.

"Nothing illegal I assure you. I just need you to call him, tell him you're in trouble and you need his help."

"That's all?" She asked.

"Simple, isn't it? Like I said, he sees you as a valuable asset, he'll come to your rescue."

Teresa looked down at the ground, her mind racing.

"She was very popular, you know. Vicky, I mean" He told her. "She made him a lot of money but then he began to fall for her himself but she wasn't into him, that made him angry. Patrick Jane doesn't take no for an answer. He wants what he wants." He paused, letting his words sink in. "I was hired by a close friend of hers. She wanted me to find her and get her out. While I was there I found out many interesting things about mister Jane. I think that's why he's trying to frame me. As I said, he doesn't like to be crossed."

"You said she had a child...a daughter? You have no idea what happened to her?"

"Oh I have an idea." He said, "But I have no proof."

"He wouldn't!" She whispered, though more for her own reassurance, "Not a child."

"A man like that, I wouldn't put it past him. He would have used her to make sure Vicky did as she was told. After the murder he wouldn't have had a use for her anymore."

McCoy took out his wallet and pulled out a photo to show Teresa. "That's them right there. Vicky's friend gave this to me the day she hired me. Thought it would help me locate her."

Teresa took the picture from McCoy and looked at it. "They look so happy here." She said as she gazed at the mother and daughter smiling into the camera. It was then that she noticed she had seen that woman before but she couldn't remember where. She studied the picture a moment longer when her eye caught on the piece of jewelry around the little girl's neck and she suddenly remembered. She gasped in shock, feeling her stomach lurch.

"Everything okay Ms Lisbon?" he asked as she handed the picture back to him.

"Everything's fine." She stood up. "I'll call him now."

"Tell him to come here. Once he's here we can restrain him and take him to the proper authorities."

"I didn't bring my cuffs." She said.

He smiled, "There is more than one way to restrain a man Ms Lisbon. We'll just have to improvise."

Teresa nodded and walked towards the opposite end of the roof and took out her phone. Her back was turned to McCoy but she could feel his eyes on her. She was about to dial Patrick's number but decided to dial someone else first.

…..

Patrick drove back to his house after leaving McCoy's office. He had tried to call Teresa several times since but he just couldn't reach her. As he drove to his house, a nagging feeling at the back of his mind kept telling him that McCoy had to somehow be behind this. He tried to repress all the possible scenarios that haunted his thoughts but had limited success. By the time he parked in the driveway he had begun to panic. He turned the ignition off and went inside. "Teresa!" He called but got no answer. "Teresa?" He walked around the ground floor but could not find her. He noticed when he entered the kitchen that there was an empty coffee mug and a plate with crumbs in it, lying on the counter. He suddenly felt a draft coming from the back door but when he moved closer to it he was surprised to see it was opened. He cautiously poked his head outside and looked around the garden but he couldn't see her. "Teresa" He called once more but still no reply. As he moved back into the kitchen his hand brushed passed the lock and he felt a suddenly pain in his index finger. He looked at his hand and saw that he had a splinter of wood had pierced his skin. He was about to pull it out when he took a look at the lock and noticed that it had been broken. "Teresa!" he called again and stormed back into the house, his heart beating fast in his chest. He walked up the stairs and took a look around in an attempt to find her. When he walked into her bedroom he noticed that her belongings had gone. He stood for a minute, rubbing his face and running his hands through his hair, then he sat on the bed and took out his cell phone and dialed the number of the one other person he knew he could trust. He placed the phone near his ear and listened as it rang, then after a few seconds it connected. "Hello?" Came a man's voice from the other end.

"Sam," Patrick began. "Sorry to call so late but I need your help."

"Don't worry about it Patrick, I'm pulling a double shift. What's up?"

"Before I tell you I need your assurance that this stays between us."

"Off course, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Do you remember Daniel McCoy?"

There was a pause, "The P. I?"

"Yes. I need you to look into him."

"What's this about Patrick? I haven't heard that name since…"

"I know, I know. I thought I'd heard the last of him too after the bust, but looks like he's back."

"What does he want?" Sam asked, his voice laced with concern.

Patrick was silent for a few seconds and when he finally spoke his voice was tinged with concern. "Sam I think my past is catching up with me."

"Look don't worry, we'll sort this. I'll see what I can do about this P.I. You just hang tight."

"Sam...I…just hurry." He said and then he hung up. He stood up and threw his phone onto the bed and then stepped into the bathroom to splash some water on his face but was stopped just as he was about to turn the water on at the sink. His cell phone began to ring and he hurried over to answer it and when he saw the caller ID his breathing began to quicken. "Teresa, where are you?" he asked.

There was a brief pause before she spoke, "Patrick, I'm in trouble and I need your help. It's McCoy…"

…..

Teresa stood on the rooftop of the Chase hotel. A gust of wind blew across her worried face, causing the curls of her dark brown hair to move to and fro, mirroring her thoughts at that moment. The conversation she had had with Naomi earlier that afternoon had confirmed her suspicions but even though on some level she had expected this, to actually hear her thoughts confirmed had rattled her a little; but she was a cop, she knew what she had to do. So here she was waiting for Patrick Jane to come her again. She felt as if she had come full circle. A sudden chill caressed her body and she pulled her jacket tighter around herself as she heard someone speak her name. "Teresa."

She turned around to see him standing there before her, his face etched with concern and something else she couldn't identify. "Patrick, you came."

He took a few steps closer. "Does that surprise you?" he asked, his eyes had taken on a dark glow; a reflection of his internal struggle.

"After the way we left things, I couldn't be sure." She told him and saw a hint of guilt flash across his face.

"I tried calling you," he said taking a few more steps toward her, "but when you didn't answer I was worried something might have happened to you." He looked around then, "When McCoy didn't show up at the club I went to his office and had a look at his files. Teresa; he's the one we've been looking for. He's the guy who's been trying to kill you. He has a file on you and it looks like he's been following your movements even after the arrests were made."

"I know Patrick." She said, her voice cold and authoritative. "I know what happened to Vicky, what you did."

He looked into her eyes, inching ever closer, trying to ascertain exactly what she knew. "Teresa," he began cautiously, "did McCoy come to see you?"

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "I had my suspicions all along but not I know the truth of what happened."

"Where is he?" He asked, "Where's McCoy?"

"I'm right here Mr Jane." A voice answered him from the shadows. Patrick looked around but and caught sight of someone stepping out from a corner to his left, a gun in his hand aimed squarely at him. When he saw who it was his jaw almost dropped to the floor.

"I know you." He said, moving to Teresa's side as realization finally hit him full on, his mind spinning in disbelief.

"I should think so, after all this time." McCoy said now fully into the light.

Teresa looked at Patrick, confusion and worry sparring for dominance in her mind. "Patrick, what's going on?" She asked but Patrick just kept staring at the man in front of him.

"Lost for words eh, _Patrick?_" He asked, Teresa could see he was clearly amused but before she could say anything further Patrick grabbed her arm and pulled her to his body, drawing his gun with the other hand. Teresa couldn't help but take a sharp intake of breath at this action.

"Patrick, what are you doing?"

His breathing was heavy and audible and she could feel his chest rise and fall swiftly against her back, setting of a chain reaction in her own body too. If _he _was scared then she knew she should be as well. "Don't trust this man Teresa, don't believe a word he says."

McCoy laughed, "This coming from a man who clearly intends to take you hostage!"

"He isn't who he seems to be." Patrick told her.

McCoy looked at Teresa now. "Teresa you know what this man is, your source confirmed everything I said. He must be stopped."

Patrick narrowed his eyes at McCoy, "If you listen to him Teresa he'll kill us both."

"Just what the hell is going on here?" Teresa asked, trying her best to keep her voice level.

"Are you going to tell her the truth or am I?" Patrick asked him.

"The truth Teresa is that this man, Patrick Jane, is a killer." He then looked at Patrick, "And if you don't let her go I will shoot you." He aimed his gun at Patrick's head.

Teresa noticed that Patrick's grip on her loosen a little then and she wondered if Patrick believed that McCoy would make good on his threat. She took advantage of the situation, wrestling herself out of his grasp and moving away to his right. She then quickly pulled out her gun and aimed it squarely at Patrick's chest.

"Teresa, you don't understand!" Patrick said.

"Oh, I understand alright. McCoy has explained everything to me."

"He's lying I didn't kill her." He tried to keep his voice level.

"I called a friend at the CBI, she told me everything I needed to know."

"Teresa," McCoy said, "you know this man is a killer, he's killed before and he will certainly kill again!"

Teresa's eyes ad grown dark with anger and they were now fixed on Patrick, "I know."

Patrick saw the smug look on McCoy's face and began to feel like he was fighting a losing battle. Taking a deep breath he told her, "That's not the real Daniel McCoy!"

Keeping her gun trained on Patrick but turning her head to McCoy she said, "I know."

For a moment the two men looked stunned at this unexpected revelation. Teresa turned towards Patrick once more. She noticed the way the light from the moon fell upon him and that even in this dark, grim setting, he still cast a beautiful shadow. Teresa felt the sting of betrayal fill her mind, setting fire to her heart and causing her tears to burn hot behind her eyes at the thought of what she was about to do. Saying a silent prayer for mercy and forgiveness, she squeezed the trigger and watched him fall. His eyes briefly glanced down to the bullet hole in his shirt, then he gave her one last look before they closed and he lay still on the ground.

She was transfixed on him for a moment before facing McCoy. She saw the glint in his eyes in reaction to what she had done and he lowered his weapon. That was all it took for Teresa's anger to burn hotter than she had felt it in years and before she could stop herself she aimed the gun at him and pulled the trigger again and for the second time that night, another body lay on the floor as a result of her actions.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you to everyone for all the lovely reviews and to my guest reviewers Amy and anon to whom I cannot personally thank. :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

As Patrick hovered in the void between consciousness and unconsciousness he began to dream. His dreams were not those of a man at peace with himself; they were the dreams of a man with a deeply troubled soul.

_"__Why are you doing this?" Patrick asked her as the two of them sat on her couch. Vicky looked into his eyes and smiled but Patrick could tell it was merely a mask for her deep sadness. _

_"__Protection I guess."_

_"__Protection?" He laughed incredulously. "From your husband?"_

_She nodded, eyes to the floor. "Yes. If he knows I have someone like Vince onside he won't dare to hurt me."_

_Patrick handed her a glass of champagne and he poured another one for himself. _

_"__You do realize that is only a temporary solution." He pointed out._

_Vicky nodded as she sipped the champagne. "I know, but that's where you come in, isn't it?" She said, smiling. _

_Patrick paused, thinking for a moment. "This whole plan puts me in an awkward position. I mean don't get me wrong, if your husband is beating you and your daughter I have no problem putting him down but…" _

_"__There is no if, Patrick." She interrupted, "I showed you the pictures, the secret video footage, he's hurting us, this has been going on too long now and he needs to be stopped!"_

_Patrick took a sip of his drink, looking her in the eyes as he continued. "but, I have no desire to piss off McVickers and his crew." _

_"__And just how will you do that?" She asked._

_"__I'm going to have to hang around, so I can keep an eye on you. That means infiltrating my way into the group. Your husband may not be as intimidated by McVickers as you think and McVickers may not be as into you as you believe he is. I've seen the way he is with women; there's a new one every six months."_

_Vicky smiled, "Well I've been in his employ for almost eight months now. So I guess I must be doing something right." _

_Patrick rolled his eyes. "Sooner or later he'll dump you for someone else." He paused."What exactly is it that you do for him?" He asked._

_She hesitated a little, "Personal favors." _

_He nodded his head in understanding, "You're sleeping with him." He guessed and the look on her face confirmed it. "Well, I suppose under the circumstances I can't blame you."_

_"__I'm not a hooker Patrick. McVickers is the head of one of the most dangerous gangs in the neighborhood. He saw me one day and took a liking to me, I told him what happened with my husband and he offered to help." _

_"__By making you his personal sex slave?" He tried to sound unbiased but couldn't control the slight disgust in his voice. _

_"__You can't judge me Patrick. I know all about you, the things you do."_

_He finished off his champagne. "Indeed, that's why you hired me, is it not? And I assure you, I'm not judging you. Him on the other hand..." _

_Vicky hung her head down and stared at her shoes as she spoke. "Look, Patrick, when I was with my husband, Emily and I were financially well off. We shopped in the best stores, ate in the finest restaurants. I tried for years to convince myself that all of those things would make up for the abuse...but when he started hitting our daughter...I knew we had to leave." She then raised her head to look at him. "Vince offered food and shelter for both me and my daughter in exchange for certain favors. I know it isn't the ideal thing to do, but my daughter is safe and looked after. Say what you want about Vince, but he's never hit us."_

_"__I have a plan, but I need your help. I need you to give find out the names of some of McVickers rivals."_

_"__Why?" she asked._

_"__Like I said, I need to keep an eye on you till I deal with your husband, so I'll need to get in with the gang."_

_"__What are you going to do?" she asked, concerned._

_"__I'm going to take them down, off course." _

_…__.._

It was almost a minute before the fire of her anger had burned out and Teresa fully realized what she had done. She stood there in the ashes of the aftermath staring at the two bodies that lay before her. As her breathing began to slow down she turned her full attention to the one on her left. She ran over to him and once she had reached the spot where he lay, she knelt down and touched his arm, a tear escaping from her eye and slowly falling down her face; the wet trail it left behind was cooled by the oceanic breeze. "Patrick." She whispered at first, afraid to even look at his face. "Patrick, I'm sorry." Her eyes slowly moved up from his arm towards the light stubble on his cheek as her courage began to slowly trickle back. "Patrick." Still holding onto his arm she glanced at the hole in his shirt and then back up to his face. Her hold on him tightened a little and she shook him gently. When he let out a groan of pain she felt the strength in her body give out and she collapsed on top of him. "Oh Patrick, thank God!" she said.

Patrick let out another moan of pain and suddenly the strength returned to Teresa as she quickly moved herself off him and sat up. She reached out to touch his face and smiled as he opened his eyes and looked up at her. "Are you okay, did you hurt your head?" She asked as he slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position too. He tentatively touched his head.

"No, my head is okay. There's a searing pain in my chest though." He looked her in the eyes. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"She wiped away the tear trails before responding, a delaying tactic in order for her to get her voice under control once more. "I had to be sure."

He stared at her incredulously. "You had to be sure of what?"

"That McCoy...or the guy pretending to be McCoy wouldn't shoot you." She replied, noticing then that she hadn't successfully assuaged his fears.

"So, let me get this straight," he began, wincing slightly in pain as he sat up straighter, "In order to ensure he wouldn't shoot me you decided to shoot me first?"

"He was aiming for your head!" She told him. "I couldn't let him shoot you in the head."

"So you aimed for my heart instead?" He asked.

Teresa looked at him for a second or two then, realizing the unintended double entendre behind his words. "Well I figured it would be the better option." She paused, "I knew you would come dressed for a party." Her hand moved towards his chest and she gently stoked a line down his shirt buttons stopping just above his stomach. "I love a man in a vest."

Patrick did his best to control an involuntary shiver that had nothing to do with the cold as he watched her small fingers undo the button there and touch what was underneath. "You took a big chance Teresa. What if I hadn't worn one?"

"You told me before; you always like to come prepared. I knew you would this time too. I knew you didn't completely trust me yet...and I didn't believe you either."

Patrick took her hand and covered it with his, stilling her movements. "So, does that mean you believe me now?" he asked, his voice soft and serious, his eyes searching hers.

Teresa waited a beat, "I know you didn't kill Vicky."

He breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed her hand subconsciously. "Thank you."

Teresa smiled at him, feeling that for the first time since she had met him she was able to relax a little. The feeling was short lived however, as the smile on his face changed to one of horror. "What is it?" She asked.

"Give me your gun." He told her, his voice taking on an authoritative tone.

"Patrick, what…"

"Your gun now!" he demanded.

She turned her head behind her to see what he was looking at and to her shock she saw that the man impersonating McCoy was not dead after all. Her eyes watched as he tried to sit up and reached for his gun but just as his hands took hold of the weapon, Teresa felt something being taken from her. It took her a second to realize that Patrick had taken her gun from behind the waistband of her jeans and before she could turn around to face him she heard three shots being fired right next to her. The next thing she knew, the impostor was on the ground again. She looked closer and saw two more bullet holes in his chest and one in his head. With her heart thumping loudly in her ears and her breath coming in short gasps, she turned to face Patrick who was holding her gun.

He looked at her, tired. "I'm just glad you thought to put bullets in this one." He then fell backwards with exhaustion.

…..

A couple of hours later Teresa was driving Patrick home. Patrick had given her the number of Sam Bosco at Sac PD who showed up at the scene a short while later with a few trusted officers to clear things up and take the impostor's body away. Patrick knew he would have a bit of trouble trying to explain why it was in Sacramento's jurisdiction to the Malibu police department but he knew that, Bosco being Bosco, would convince them.

Teresa was relived when Bosco had insisted that Patrick get some on-scene medical attention for his injuries. They had given him painkillers, the result of which made the car ride back to his house a little more quiet. As they drove Teresa would glance at him every so often to make sure he was okay. "Stop that." He told her after she'd done it the third time. "I'm not going to fall to pieces. It's not like this is the first time this has happened you know."

"I know, I just…" she wanted to tell him that she was worried about him, that the thought of him dying on that rooftop as a result her mis-judgment filled her with so much pain and guilt that she almost threw up each time she thought about it. But every time the words crept up towards her tongue she reminded herself of the cold way he had treated her and she knew better than to voice her feelings to him, feelings that were starting to become harder to ignore. "I just wanted to thank you for saving my life back there."

He shrugged, "I told you, I need to keep you alive, I still haven't been paid."

She tried to tell herself that going through such a dangerous situation with someone can sometimes generate these kinds of emotions but she knew that the seed of her feelings was planted some time ago. She decided then to distract herself with another line of thought. "So," she began, "what really happened between you and Vicky?"

He raised his eyebrow at her, "Are you jealous Teresa?" he teased but his good-natured ribbing only served to have the opposite affect on her.

"Damn it Patrick, I have put my life on the line going along with this hair-brained scheme of yours and I think I deserve an explanation!"

"Hair-brained scheme? We caught the bastard who was trying to kill you; I think I did my job very well. The fact that you were stupid enough to get yourself into that position with that guy is all on you."

Teresa punched him in the arm and smiled in satisfaction as he flinched. "Tell me about Vicky or I'll do that again."

"Hit a man while his down? That's not the Teresa Lisbon I know." He replied.

It was her turn to shrug now. "Hmm must be the company I'm keeping?" she told him nonchalantly as she made her hand into a fist again.

"Alright woman! If it'll keep your attention on the road, I'll tell you." He took a moment before he began. "Vicky came to me while I was in L.A. She told me that her husband was beating on her and her daughter. The man was a successful business executive and they were all living in the lap of luxury. She told me he had a coke habit and when he got high he would get violent. She had reached the end of her rope and she wanted to take drastic action."

"She wanted her husband dead." Teresa confirmed.

"Yes. I agreed to do it but things started getting complicated."

"You fell in love with her?" she guessed and he looked at her. "McCoy or rather that son of a bitch claiming to be him told me."

"Well, for such a lying ass, he at least got that part right. She was a beautiful, brave woman and during the brief time we got to know each other, we got closer." He paused, "I...I knew it was a mistake from the first time I kissed her but…"

"I understand." Teresa said, her voice had grown softer.

"We managed to keep things professional until one night she called me over to her apartment. Her husband had tracked her down and was trying to break into the house. He was furious and high. I went over there as soon as I could and I shot him. Dead."

"I see," Teresa couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the ease with which he spoke of that. She always believed that taking the life of another human being should always be a last resort.

"I thought after that we would be free to be together but she was scared that McVickers would find out about us." He rubbed at his face then and Teresa noticed the way he hung his head. "I should have listened to her but I was a fool. I told her it would be okay, even after she kept insisting that it was a bad idea, a mistake. She wanted to wait until she broke free of the gang…" he trailed off.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I left her at her apartment one evening and went home. I got a call from her a few hours later, she sounded panicked. I rushed over there as fast as I could but when I got there…it was too late."

"She was…"

"Yeah." He confirmed "she was right, it was a mistake. My mistake. I put her in danger, she was killed because of me." He turned his head to face the window.

"You think McVickers killed her?" Teresa asked.

When he looked at her again his eyes were red with unshed tears. "I don't know" he said, his voice trailing off at the end. "Sam said he alibied out, but I don't know."

"Off course that only threw suspicion at me. But Sam...Sam was the only one who believed me. He fought my corner, got me a good lawyer and they dropped the charges for lack of evidence."

There was still a question Teresa had to know the answer to but she was almost afraid to ask. Patrick had been reading her expression as she wrestled with her thoughts. "Ask your question." He told her.

"No, it's okay." She lied and Patrick caught it.

"Ask." He said again.

"I don't need to know." She said.

"Teresa, just ask the damn question." He was beginning to become irritable as the pain of his memories came back with a vengeance.

"What happened to her daughter?"

"I took her in, took care of her for two years. She was starting to feel like my own, you know. I raised her, fed her and gave her as much education as I could on my own. I didn't want her going to a school in case McVickers came after her. I kept her safe...then one day…"

"What happened?" She asked, feeling her tears threaten to fall at the sad tone of his voice.

"I was making her breakfast. I called her but there was no answer. I knocked on her bedroom door but when she didn't reply I went in. She was lying in her bed. She wasn't breathing. I tried to resuscitate her but it was too late."

"Oh Patrick!" Teresa whispered, trying her best to focus on the road ahead.

"I later discovered a bottle of sleeping pills under her bed. They were mine Teresa." He paused, the sadness on his face rapidly being replaced by anger and self hate. "So you see I caused her death too!" He tried to keep his voice level but the rage he felt inside wouldn't permit it.

They drove the rest of the way to the house in silence, Teresa stunned at this new revelation. Not long after their talk Patrick had finally fallen asleep, the painkillers having taken their toll on him. She watched him at every red light they stopped at. Her heart went out to him and she wondered how such a troubled and tortured man could ever come back from such a tragedy.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Here's the next chapter of this story, I'm really sorry it's a little late. I want to say a big thank you once again for everyone who reviewed the last chapter. :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

By the time they got back to Patrick's house it was 2.37am. Teresa pulled up into the driveway and turned off the ignition. She looked at Patrick for a moment with mixed emotions. She still wasn't quite sure what to make of him. She felt sadness for all the pain he had gone through but at the same time she also felt a rush of affection for him. She reached out her hand and softly stroked his arm as he slept in the passenger seat next to her and wondered how she had managed to get herself involved in all this. She let her hand linger a while before she decided it was finally time to wake him up. "Patrick," she told him softly. "Patrick wake up, we're here."

Patrick stirred slightly, groaning a little and then slowly opened his eyes. When he realized where he was he sat up straight. "How long have I been asleep?" He asked, slightly embarrassed.

"About thirty-five minutes." She replied and then opened the door. "Let's get inside, I could use some coffee."

The two of them went inside the house. Teresa headed straight to the kitchen to put on a fresh pot of coffee. It was not long before he joined her, sitting down at the breakfast bar. She turned around to find him watching her. "You okay?" She asked, concerned.

"Yeah, the vest took most of the impact." He told her as she joined him at the breakfast bar.

"That's not what I meant," she said.

He looked down at the table, "I know."

There was a moment of silence between them before Teresa got up to make the coffee. Patrick just continued to stare at the table but Teresa knew his mind was somewhere else. She knew that he was still thinking about what he had said to her even though he refused to admit it. She poured some coffee for Patrick and herself and then sat back down next to him again. He made a face at the sight of the warm drink in front of him and under normal circumstances Teresa would have found it funny, but at that moment, all she could think of was what he must be feeling. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like to lose a child; and it was clear to her that he had come to think of Emily as his own daughter. She reached out and put her hand over his, which was resting on the tabletop. He looked into her beautiful green eyes and saw that they were filled with worry. He wanted to tell her that he was grateful that she was there but after telling her what had happened with Vicky he felt too exposed. "Coffee?" he asked her. "You know I drink tea."

Teresa found herself unexpectedly relieved at his manner and let a small smile show. "I know." She said and took a sip from her mug. "But I've just had a hell of a day and I'll be damned if I'm drinking tea now." Patrick was also relieved, glad that they could fall back on the banter once more to lighten the mood a little. "I'm actually surprised you had some."

"I keep it for...guests." He said and he knew that she understood what he meant. He looked at her face to gauge her reaction and was shocked to see a sliver of hurt cross it just for a second before she shook her head and smiled.

"Off course you do." She said and then put her mug down. Another round of silence ensued before Teresa jumped off the stool. "Maybe coffee isn't a good idea, I think I'll just go to bed, I'm tired." She poured the rest of the coffee down the sink and then walked up the stairs to her room, closing the door behind her.

Patrick watched as she walked away, mentally berating himself. When he heard her close the door he too got up off the stool and went to lie down on the couch. He took some more painkillers, hoping they'd help him sleep but even though they helped numb his physical pain, inside he was hurting badly. He lay awake for about half an hour when he decided to get up and go upstairs. He quietly made his way up and walked down the hallway towards his bedroom but as he passed Teresa's door he stopped. He knew she was developing feelings for him and if he was completely honest with himself he was feeling the same way towards her. She had been one of the few people who had really seen through his act and recognized him for whom he really was. He thought about everything that had happened to bring them together, the memories of which made him reach out and place his hand on her door. He stood like that for a moment, his palm pressed against the wood, thinking about the woman inside. He moved closer and pressed his forehead against the door, listening for any sign of movement. When he heard her walking around he knocked twice. "Teresa," he said, quietly. "Teresa," he called again, louder now. A few seconds later she opened the door slightly and peered out at him.

"Patrick, it's late, I need to sleep." She told him and he noted that she did sound tired. Guilt filled his mind once more and he almost turned to leave but then he looked into her emerald eyes and he knew he had to tell her what was on his mind, no matter how difficult it was. After everything that had happened, he had to set things straight.

"I know it's late, but I just needed to talk to you." He said and she reluctantly opened the door and let him in, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"What is it?" She asked, fatigue evident in her voice.

"Can we just stop this, please?" he asked as he entered.

"Stop what?"

"Pretending like there's nothing going on here." He gestured between the two of them.

"There's nothing going on here, Patrick, you said so yourself, remember?" She turned around and started to walk away when he took hold of her arm and stopped her.

"I think we both know I didn't mean that." His voice was softer now and she looked him in the eyes.

"You sounded pretty sincere to me." She replied.

"Teresa, I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She smirked, "Please, I know the way you are with women."

He pulled her closer, noting that she wasn't trying to pull away, even though her words told him otherwise. "Not with everyone Teresa."

"Don't think I don't know that's just another tacky pick up line." Her voice was cool and steady but her heart had begun to race, she so wanted to believe him. "You just want to pick up where we left off in the shower yesterday but it's not going to happen."

He smiled at her, "Isn't it?"

She glared at him then and shook her arm free of his grasp. "Go away Patrick, I just want to sleep."

"No fun sleeping alone." He teased, he knew he should stop winding her up but he found that he just couldn't help himself. She looked so beautiful when she was worked up.

"Well, you should know." She told him and Patrick could sense the jealously in her tone.

"Look, Teresa, I can't change my past." He said.

"I'm not asking you to, but I just can't play the games you do."

"I know you have feelings for me Teresa."

"No, I don't." She lied, "I just want to get this whole case wrapped up so I can go home."

He looked at her, amused, "You're lying, it's written all over your face. You feel something; why else would you feel so jealous over all the other women I've been with?"

She could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes and cursed herself for being so weak in front of him. "I'm not jealous and I won't be another of your conquests. Look if it's company you want why don't you go down to a bar and pick up someone. I'm sure you'll have no problems finding women, they just fall for your charms, don't they?"

He moved closer, "Doesn't seem to be working on you." He noted in mock disappointment.

"That's because I know it's all just an act." She replied, raising her voice just a little now.

"You mean to get you into bed?" He asked, intrigued now as to where she was going with this.

"Yes...well not entirely." She said, "You put on this whole act to avoid what you feel inside."

"And just what is it that you think I feel?" He asked, moving even closer, their bodies inches from each other.

"You're hurting, after all these years you still carrying around the pain. You still blame yourself for Vicky's death."

He was quiet for a moment, eyes to the floor in thought but when he finally looked up at her she could see the tears threaten to fall. "Yes." He replied, his voice a whisper and if she were not so close to him she would not have heard it.

"That's probably the first honest thing you've said to me since you walked in here."

Patrick began to feel the frustration in him grow, "Okay, okay if it's honesty you want, then fine; here it is! Yes, I'm hurting over Vicky and her daughter. I loved her, I loved them both and losing them sliced my heart into pieces! I want to find out who killed her so I can cut him open too. I can't sleep at night, because each time I close my eyes, I see their lifeless bodies hovering in front of me. I can't live with myself knowing what I did to cause their deaths. Do you know what that feels like Teresa?" He asked, his hands gripping her arms, "Do you know what it's like to know you're responsible for the death of someone you loved?"

A few tears escaped her eyes as she answered, realising that he had virtually admitted to wanting to end his own life. "No." She said.

There was a moment's silence before she spoke again, "Is that why you do this? Kill people for a living?"

"I only kill bad people; abusers, rapists, child molesters, murderers, people who hurt the innocent. I'm not an evil man Teresa. If you never believe anything else I say, please just believe that."

She looked him in the eyes and placed her hand on his heart. "I know that Patrick. I know that now."

He looked at her, relief evident on his face. "So, can I ask for some honesty from _you_ now?"

She was taken aback by that comment. "What do you want to know?"

"I want you to tell me the real reason you came to me for help. The truth Teresa."

Teresa looked away for a second before firmly fixing her gaze on him once more. "The part about the death threats was true. I had a strong hunch it was connected to the time I was undercover, but with McVickers in jail I could only think of two other people it was likely to be. Patterson or you." She explained and he listened intently. "Patterson was supposed to get to go instead of me, it could have made his career, I thought maybe he still held a grudge. I mean his life was going down the toilet, I thought maybe he blamed me for that. Then there was you. I just couldn't figure you out. You spent a lot of time around me and yet it was clear you didn't belong there. You weren't one of them and everyone warned me to keep my distance from you."

"But you didn't." He said.

"No, while I was there I honestly thought you were trying to protect me. But afterwards I found out about what they said you had done to Vicky…"

"Wait, you knew?" He asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes," She admitted, "Sort of. It was all rumors but Vince had mentioned something about it to me before they took him away. He told me he thought you would do the same to me if I wasn't careful. You know, if we didn't arrest him when we did I think he would have come after you."

"Hmm, and all that time I thought he was grateful to me for taking out Harris for him." He smirked, "That's gratitude for ya."

Teresa continued, "When I got back to the CBI I thought about researching you some more but I didn't. To be honest, I just wanted to forget about that whole thing, but when the threats started I had to find out if you were the one behind them."

"You really believed that?" He asked.

"You're a dangerous man Patrick, capable of anything; so yes, I believed it, and when that guy posing as McCoy confirmed my suspicions...well you know the rest. But after we made a plan to get you onto that rooftop, before I called you I called a colleague of mine at the CBI. I asked her to pull up his file to make sure he was legit. When she told me the guy was fifty six alarm bells went off in my mind. I asked her to describe his appearance to me and he looked nothing like the man claiming to be him. I knew then he had an ulterior motive for getting you there, and the way he kept insisting that you did it made me believe that you were innocent."

"I still could have been guilty," he suggested.

"No, I knew he would have shot me after he shot you. I could see it in his eyes; it's a look I've seen a hundred times before while working homicide."

He took a deep breath at her revelation. "I knew him Teresa, at least I saw him around, he hung out with Mcvicker's crew. On the rooftop tonight, when he pulled a gun out I also knew he would double cross us. The thought of him hurting you...I couldn't let that happen."

She sighed, "Yes I know, you haven't been paid yet."

"Screw the money, screw this job! I don't care about any of that anymore!" He told her. "God Teresa, I swear if he had hurt you I would have done far worse that just shot him!" He moved his hand from her arm to her face where he softly caressed her cheek, wiping away the falling tears. "And I don't want any woman from a bar, I want you Teresa. You coming back into my life has changed things for me. It's like a gift and I don't want to lose it...to lose you."

"Let me get this straight? Patrick Jane is telling me he actually wants a relationship?" She started to laugh but when she saw the hurt in his eyes at her joke her face took on a serious expression. "Oh."

"I don't know what this is between us Teresa but I know I haven't felt this way in a long time."

"It's just the adrenaline rush from getting shot tonight." She said, unwilling to believe his words for fear of getting hurt again.

"I mean it." He told her.

"I wish I could believe you." She whispered.

"Then let me prove it to you." He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. Teresa was completely taken off guard by his actions, this kiss was unlike the one from the day before. When he pulled back she was surprised to see the tears begin to form in his sea-green eyes. "Let me show you how I feel about you." He kissed her again, more passionately than before and Teresa's head began to spin.

As he deepened the kiss, reality seemed to slowly begin to dull. She became vaguely aware of his hands on her hips as he lifted her up off the floor and she wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, feeling her body begin to pulse at his touch. "Let me show you that you're the one that I want." He told her between kisses and he moved her towards the nearest wall and pressed her back into it. His mouth was hot as it hungered on hers, and he heard her moan as he brushed her tongue with his own. His mouth then moved to her neck and he sucked at the delicate skin there, eliciting another series of soft moans from her as her hands wound their way through his hair and her fingers pulled his shirt from his jeans and expertly teased his spine. It wasn't long before Patrick found it difficult to stand, the woman in his arms was driving him wild with desire. He carried her over to the bed and began undressing her and was breath-taken with every inch of skin he revealed. She was perfect and he could not believe this was finally happening. The hunger in him grew with each item of clothing she removed from his body and he could see wanted him just as much. "I want you Teresa, I need you. Not just for one night, but every night from now on." He breathed in her ear as they began to make love. "For as long as we're both breathing."

Teresa was speechless, she never thought it would be like this between them. She had never thought him capable of such tenderness, but the way he touched her made her feel like the only woman in the world. The things he was saying to her caused both her mind and body to explode with deep pleasure and it was not long before he followed her into ecstasy. When it was over he lay beside her, watching her as she came back down again. He gently stroked her hair as he watched her eyes begin to close, the sound of their breaths the only thing that could be heard. Then, as her breathing began to slow, he whispered softly to her, "Sleep now, I'll see you in the morning." He then leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I'll be here Teresa."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: This is the penultimate chapter of this story. My thanks again to everyone who took the time to leave a review, your support means so much to me. :-)

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

The two of them slept for six hours, Patrick was the first to wake. As he opened his eyes and felt a warm body next to him his first thought was that it was just another beautiful woman whom he had spent the night with and he was about to get up and get some breakfast; that is until he turned his head and realized it was Teresa. His heart warmed at the sight of her lying next to him and he decided to stay a while and just watch her sleep. He loved the way her dark locks fell in delicious waves about her bare shoulders and over the pillow. He was tempted to plant a soft kiss on her cheek but he didn't want to wake her. She was right when she said he had put her through a lot in the past few days and a pang of guilt drifted through him at that thought. He had never meant to hurt her, never meant to develop feelings for her but he had done both in spite of himself. He knew she deserved better; better than him and the life he could give her. She was a cop after all and he doubted she would be okay with having a boyfriend who does the things he does. He fell back into the pillows at that thought, wondering when he started to think of himself as being her boyfriend. If he was honest with himself he would have to admit that it started the moment he saw her sitting in front of his fireplace, trying to keep warm and dry after they had been out in the rain. He could hardly take his eyes off her as she sat there, looking so beautiful. He remembered how the whole moment felt so natural and right and how he had indulged himself further by offering her his shirt; half expecting her to throw it back to him. He was surprised that she had actually worn it and when she sat down at the table with him he could feel his heart begin to come back to life. That alone was enough to terrify him.

After everything that happened with Vicky he had sworn to himself that he would never fall in love again but he knew this thing between himself and Teresa had been a long time in the making. She was special and even though he tried his best to keep his feelings for her in a dark place, her reappearance in his life had managed to bring out the sun. Her powerful warmth and light had managed make its way into even the darkest places of his soul and he found himself powerless to resist. Vicky – he still felt the sting in his heart every time he thought about her and the events that led to her death. He glanced at Teresa again, realizing that as much as he cared for her, at the back of his mind he couldn't help thinking that he might one day hurt her too. Trouble always seemed to follow him and he wondered if he could ever truly escape the mistakes of his past. He decided to get out of bed then. He picked his clothes up off the floor and walked over to his own bedroom. Once he had taken a shower and changed he went downstairs to make some breakfast.

Teresa woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting its way from the kitchen. As she opened her eyes she felt her stomach growl; the aroma reminding her she hadn't eaten for a while. She blinked and then rested her head on the pillow next to her. Patrick's scent still lingered on it and on the sheets where he had slept. She smiled as she remembered what had happened the night before, but those happy feelings were soon replaced by doubt. She knew the kind of man he was when it came to women and although he had said all the right things, in the light of day they didn't reassure her as they had done last night. She got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom to have a shower. When she went downstairs she found Patrick sitting at the table having his breakfast while reading some files. When he saw her he looked up and smiled "Good morning."

"Morning Patrick," she replied and headed straight for the coffee maker. He watched her, carefully observing her face and posture. He noticed the slight slump of her shoulders as she moved.

"Made you breakfast." He told her, gesturing to the second plate on the table. He then got up off the chair. "Why don't you sit down and I'll get you some coffee?"

Teresa walked over to the dining table and sat down. "You didn't have to do this," she said and he noted the hint of grumpiness in her voice. He came over to her, coffee cup in hand.

"I wanted to," he said, "to thank you for saving my life last night." He sat back down and resumed eating and studying the file in front of him.

"I'm a cop, it was instinct." She shrugged and Patrick wondered why she was being so cold with him

He stopped eating then for a moment and looked at her. "That's not what I meant." Teresa was slightly confused at his reply and gave him a questioning look but he went back to reading the file. "McCoy kept excellent records." He said, completely changing the conversation. "I've been trying to find out who would have hired him."

"Any thoughts?" She asked then took a bite of her food.

"There's nothing in these files, I'll need to go back to his office." He replied and then looked at her. "I have an idea though."

Teresa looked up at him then. "Oh?"

"That man who was impersonating McCoy," he began. "I recognized him. He started hanging around with McVicker's crew, back when…when Vicky was alive."

"I wondered how he knew so much about you." Teresa said, "I don't remember seeing him." She said, "but he obviously had a grudge against you. What did you do to him?"

Patrick paused, "I don't know. I only saw him around. He clearly has some connection to Vicky, but I never spoke to him, I don't even know who he is but I'm going to find out."

Just then the doorbell rang. Patrick and Teresa looked at each other. "You expecting someone?" She asked and he shook his head and put his right index finger to his lips, indicating that she should not make a sound. He then got up off the chair and took his gun from the living room and walked slowly toward the front door. The bell rang once more as he was making his way over and just as he was about to take the safety off he heard a man call his name. "Patrick?" His voice was low but Patrick recognized it as belonging to Sam Bosco. He carefully lowered his weapon and opened the door.

"Sam?" He asked, surprised to see his longtime friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Official business I'm afraid." He said as Patrick invited him in.

"Is everything okay?" He asked. They sat on the couch just as Teresa walked in. Bosco stood up to greet her

"Detective Bosco." She said, extending her hand.

"Hi agent Lisbon," he shook her hand and they both sat down. "I wanted you to know that we've managed to ID the guy who tried to kill you." He told her.

"Who was he?" Teresa asked.

"His name was Terrence Wright. Does that name ring any bells with you?" He asked but she shook her head.

"No," she replied, "I don't know anyone by that name." She then looked to Patrick whose face was just as blank. "Who the hell was he?"

"He was a middle manager at a place called Exeter and Smith in San Francisco. Clean driving license, no record." Bosco informed her.

"Exeter and Smith?" Teresa said, "I've never heard of it."

"It's a small time software company." He informed her but this left her even more confused.

Just then Bosco received a call on his cell phone. He excused himself and left the room to answer it. Teresa looked at Patrick, a concerned expression on her face.

"Exeter and Smith, Exeter and Smith?" Patrick repeated quietly to himself. "Why does that name sound familiar?" He then sat back into the couch and closed his eyes, lost in his thoughts.

"Patrick," Teresa asked.

"Shhh!" He replied without opening his eyes. "I'm searching my memory palace."

"Memory palace?" She asked.

"I'll explain later, just let me think for a bit." He told her and she let him get back to his thoughts while watching him in quiet fascination.

A couple of minutes later Bosco walked back into the room. "Guess what, we've found the real Daniel McCoy." He told them.

"Is he…dead?" Teresa asked but Bosco shook his head. "No, we found him in his living room, he was bound and gagged, we're thinking maybe Wright had intended to come back to him."

"Hmmm." Said Patrick as he opened his eyes. "He did keep immaculate records, wouldn't make sense to kill him until after he had done what he set out to do."

"You mean kill me?" Teresa asked then paused, "But if he wanted to kill me he had plenty of opportunity, so why didn't he? He kept talking about you, trying to put the blame on you for Vicky's death, I think it was you he was after all along."

"She's right." Bosco agreed as he turned to Patrick. "You've got a long list of enemies Patrick, any idea who this guy could be?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, vaguely, "I think we need to go see Daniel McCoy, maybe he'll have some answers."

Bosco nodded. "You can follow me, I'm going back there anyway to question him, you two can come along."

"I'll just need to get a few things, we can leave in about five minutes." Patrick told them and then stood up to leave.

After Patrick had left the room Teresa turned to face Bosco. "Thank you." She said.

"No problem." Bosco replied.

Teresa hesitated before asking, "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No," He answered, "what is it?"

"How do you know Patrick? I mean I know the two of you go back to when he knew Vicky, but…"

"But what?" He asked.

"It just seems like an unlikely friendship." She said.

Bosco shook his head and smiled. "I can see how it might seem that way." He took a breath before answering. "I've been doing this job for a long time now agent Lisbon, I've seen all kinds of people walk into the station asking for help, some of them genuine, others trying to cover up what they had done."

Teresa nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"The minute I saw this guy I knew he was innocent. I can't explain it exactly, it was just the hurt and haunted look in his eyes and the desperation on his face...I don't know, but my gut was telling me he didn't hurt her."

"In spite all the evidence pointing to the contrary?" She asked. "I mean, you must have researched his background? You would have known what he did for a living. He has a sadistic streak and everyone knew he was a womanizer."

"Sure I looked at his file, spoke to a few people of interest, people who knew him and they all told me more or less what you just said." He confirmed, "Then I did a little digging into his past, his childhood."

"His father?" She asked, remembering what Patrick had told her a few nights ago.

"So you know huh?"

"He just said his father hit him."

"That's right. I had a look at his medical record and he had taken a few trips to the emergency room. He did more than just hit him agent Lisbon, he broke bones. Repeatedly. I later found out that he still had the scars from those days; and I don't just mean the physical ones." Bosco told her.

"That's why he only takes certain cases. He doesn't just kill_ anybody_." She said.

He nodded, "Yeah that's right. At first I thought he was just another hit-man, concerned more about money than morals, but as I looked into his victims' backgrounds, I realized that like a lot of serial killers, he too had a type. Don't get me wrong here, the man is far from a saint, I remember the way he spoke about his victims; he was cold and unfeeling, even about the women he had killed." He paused, "He said it was worth it. For justice."

"How come he never went to prison for what he had done? I mean, good intentions or not, it's still murder." Teresa asked.

Bosco shook his head again. "His clients were all very rich, most of them had powerful connections...you do the math." He noticed the frown on her face and quickly added, "The point I'm trying to make is that even though he acted like he didn't care about the others, when he spoke about Vicky, it was a completely different story. It wasn't so much what he said; I knew by then that his words didn't mean much, but it was more the way he said it, the way he spoke about her...I could tell he loved her and I knew then he wouldn't have hurt her. I could just tell, you know?"

"So you believed him." She confirmed.

"I believed him, and I fought tooth and nail for him because I knew deep down that he was telling the truth." He paused before adding, "He's talked about you, you know, the first time you two met, he told me about you after the arrests were made."

Teresa gave him a very confused look. "He did?" She asked, her voice pitching a little higher on that last word.

"I wasn't going to tell you this but seeing the two of you together...I just thought you should know...the way he talks about you...I can tell that he cares about you." He leaned a little closer to her then and looked her in the eyes. "Agent Lisbon, whatever he may have said in his past, whatever he may have done...he's a good man at heart. You need to believe that."

Teresa did her best to keep her tears from falling, she looked away from him for a brief moment but before she could respond to him Patrick entered the room. "Okay, all set shall we get going…" He looked at Teresa's face and then at Bosco, "Everything okay?" he asked.

Bosco stood up and patted him once on the arm, "Everything's fine." He said, his tone upbeat, "Let's go."

…..

Patrick and Teresa followed Bosco's car all the way to McCoy's house. As they arrived they noticed some uniformed officers on the scene talking to a middle-aged man. Bosco got out and went to speak to them. Teresa and Patrick lingered in the car a little longer. As Teresa turned off the ignition he turned to her, concern evident on his face. "Hey," he began, his voice soft, "you okay?"

"I'm fine," she answered and he was relived that the cold, aloofness of that morning had gone from her voice.

"You were a little quiet this morning," he added, "I was worried you were having second thoughts about me...about us."

She turned to him then, "I was." She told him and could see a sliver of sadness wash over his handsome features.

"Have you changed your mind?" He asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

She smiled and then took his hand in hers, squeezing it a little. "I want this." She told him and then leaned in and kissed his cheek. When she pulled back she saw his face soften as he smiled back. She then reluctantly got out of the car and followed Bosco toward McCoy. Patrick waited a beat and then he too got out of the car.

The two of them walked towards the front of the house where a man was sitting on a gurney after receiving medical care. "This the guy?" Patrick asked Bosco as they approached. Bosco nodded.

"Detective McCoy, this is…"

McCoy looked at both Patrick and Teresa and his face paled, as if he'd just been visited by two ghosts. "Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon!" he said and tried to stand but was too weak.

"That's right," Teresa said.

"You're alive!" He exclaimed incredulously, "I thought for sure he would have killed you."

"You mean Terrence Wright?" Patrick asked.

"Yes." McCoy replied.

"What's your connection to mister Wright?" Bosco asked him, taking out a notepad.

"He hired me. He wanted me to investigate various members of a gang in Sacramento." He began, "He was very interested in the two of you in particular."

"Did he say why?" Teresa asked but McCoy hesitated for a moment.

"Look if this is about client confidentiality…" Bosco began.

"Screw client confidentiality!" McCoy replied, "That crazy bastard tried to kill me! Just left me here for dead!" He took another moment to gather his thoughts and then turned to Patrick. "He said you murdered his brother."

The eyes of both Teresa and Bosco fell upon Patrick who then closed his own eyes, trying to think.

"He wanted me to track you down." McCoy continued.

"But where do I fit in all of this?" Teresa asked, confused.

"At first I wasn't sure, he told me you were an old friend of his that he needed to see again but the further I researched and the more time I spent with him I began to get the feeling that something wasn't right. Like he wasn't telling me the whole truth."

"Where does Vicky fit in to all this?" She asked Bosco.

"Vicky?" McCoy asked, "You mean Victoria Hamilton?"

"Yes." Teresa replied.

"Well that's what I'm trying to tell you. He was my client for about six months. He seemed perfectly normal at first but the more I spoke with him, told him what I had found out, the more unstable he became, and the more unusual his requests became too."

"Like what?"

"Well, one day when I told him I'd managed to track you down he wanted me to track down your brother too. I asked him why but he wouldn't tell me. He had this crazy look in his eyes so I turned him down." He paused, "He then offered me ten grand if I did it. He said it was very important to him that he find out."

"So you took the money?" Bosco asked, disgust evident on his face.

"Hey, times are tough, I needed the money."

"Do you realise that he nearly ran my brother and his daughter off the road?" She asked, raising her voice in anger.

McCoy lowered his eyes at that and spoke softly, "I didn't know he was going to do that. Like I said, I didn't realize the depth of his insanity until I decided to dig into his own background. It was only then I started to put things together."

"And what did you find?" Bosco inquired.

"You found out that he was Vicky's brother-in-law." Patrick said as he opened his eyes, noticing the surprised looks of the three people in front of him.

"Yes...how did you…"

"Exeter and Smith. I knew I'd heard that name before. It was the same company Vicky's husband worked for." He replied.

"I confronted him with what I'd found and he admitted it. Said that he owed a debt to his brother. That Victoria had left him, ruined his life and he wanted to find the son-of-a-bitch who took her away from him."

"Me." Patrick stated. "He blamed me for Vicky leaving his brother."

"Yes, he said that he wanted to find you and put you down too. Those are his words, not mine." He paused, clearing his throat. "I told him I couldn't work for him anymore, then he got mad and pulled out a knife, threatened to kill me if I didn't help him. I went for my gun but he hit me over the head and I blacked out. Next thing I remember I was on the floor with my hands tied behind my back and duct tape around my ankles."

Teresa gasped inaudibly, "You mean he's the one who killed Vicky?"

"I believe so." McCoy replied.

Teresa looked over at Patrick and noticed that was breathing a little heavier, the shock of the revelation seemed to have knocked the wind out of him. "You still haven't answered my question," she reminded, "where do I come into this?"

"He had spent some time in that gang, he saw the two of you were getting close. My guess is that he wanted to use you to get to him and then he would have killed you to hurt Patrick before he killed him too."

"That makes sense." Patrick said, "He wanted revenge for his brother's death, he wanted to make me suffer." He turned to Teresa, his eyes glazed over with tears. "Watching you die would have done that."

There was a few seconds of contemplative silence before Bosco thanked McCoy for his time and then Teresa and Patrick walked back to the car. "You okay." She asked, taking his hand.

He didn't look at her, his eyes toward the ground, lost in his thoughts. "Yeah." He replied and held her hand tightly. He thought finding out who killed Vicky would bring him relief but he found he that he felt more reflective than anything else. As the two of them walked back to the car he thought about how his life was at a crossroads now and he wondered where he could go from here.


End file.
